


Written in the Stars

by Gwenhwyfar1984



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel/Demon Pregnancy, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel in the Bunker, Character Death, Dating, Drama, F/M, Meg in the Bunker, Resistance to Motherhood, Romance, Sexual Content, Swearing, Unplanned Pregnancy, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwenhwyfar1984/pseuds/Gwenhwyfar1984
Summary: Unable to write Supernatural novels, Chuck Shurley decides to create a spin-off novel starring the angel Castiel. This brings Castiel and the demon Meg together. The resulting relationship makes Castiel and Meg targets for both Heaven and Hell, and has consequences on a cosmic level.





	1. Chapter 1

The insistent beeping of the alert on his computer drew Chuck from his chapter. Annoyed, he answered the video chat chime, and his girlfriend's face popped up on the computer screen.

“Becky, what's wrong?” he asked. She knew not to interrupt him when he was writing unless it was important.

“What's wrong? What's wrong?” She held up his latest manuscript. “You send my Sam to Hell and you ask me what's wrong?”

Chuck sighed. “First, he is not your Sam. Second, he is back by the time the novel starts. Third, out of everything that happens that is what you're focusing on?”

Becky let out a huff. “No. I just had to mention it. Now we can get to what's important?”

“Which is?” he asked. He was beginning to doubt allowing Becky to read his work before publishing it, but she as the only one of his readers that knew the stories were real. He liked that in a beta reader. Not that he would or could change anything if she brought it up.

No, it was far too late for that...

  
  


o.O.o

  
  


The bar was busy when the demon known as Meg entered it. A few people looked over at her, but most were focused on their own conversation or drink. She could practically feel the misery coming from some of the patrons, and she drank it in.

“Evening, Portia,” Meg greeted the demon bartender as she climbed up on a stool. “Business looks promising tonight.”

“Local university lost their football game. Vodka?” Portia said.

“As always,” Meg answered.

Portia set the drink in front of her and Meg took a deep swallow. The alcohol pleasantly burned down her meat suit’s throat.

  
  


A few seats away a man was obviously eyeing her. He had the body of one of those guys who works out obsessively, and absolutely no real intelligence in his eyes. He definitely looked like he could be worth a few hours of physical, pleasurable fun though. It had been a while since she had had such fun. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and sat up straighter before giving him an inviting smile.

“Uh uh,” Portia said, glancing at the man. “Not your type.”

“And you know my type how?” Meg responded, taking another drink.

“By knowing you for three centuries. What’s going on? I know you like big, but they’re usually at least as smart as a dog.”

“I’m bored. The most exciting thing I’ve done lately is watch daytime television.”

“You’re laying low, Meg.”

“I know.”

“You brought this on yourself for supporting Lucifer and not Crowley. You were one of Lucifer’s most loyal. They’d love to get their hands on you.”

And she’d end on back on the rack for another few centuries...if she was lucky. Alistair had trained her well. She knew exactly what would happen.

She had earned her way off the rack. She was not going back.

  
  


Meg finished her vodka and ordered another.

Portia set it in front of her with a smirk. “Here’s some excitement for you. He’s back…”

Meg glanced behind her and saw Castiel sitting at a table watching her. She rolled her eyes and took a large swallow of vodka before picking her glass up and moving to Castiel’s table.

  
  


“Now, I know I’ve been a very...naughty...demon,” she began in a low voice. “But I didn’t think I merited angelic intervention.”

He frowned as she sat across from him. “I am not aware of any orders concerning you.”

“Then why are you stalking me, Clarence?”

“I am not, as you say, stalking you. I am merely observing you.”

“Yeah. ‘Observing’ me every Friday for a month.”

“I was asked to keep an eye on you. With peace in Heaven I now find that I have...free time. I was happy to oblige.”

“Let me guess. The somebodies you're obliging are named Winchester?”

Castiel didn’t reply, but she knew they were the only ones who the angel would ever do something like this for. They were also the only humans who knew who she was, and they had a reason for wanting her dead.

“Well, you can go back to your cloud. I’m not up to no good. I’m not up to anything. Just drinking and TV.”

“That does not sound like you.”

“And what sounds like me?” she asked, leaning back with a smirk on her face. This should be interesting.

“You’re a demon. Causing chaos and torturing humans are more likely activities. Although, I have heard that the new King of Hell is hunting Lucifer’s followers. Perhaps that is why you’re in this place. By foolishly supporting Lucifer you have made yourself a target.” He said it with such casualness that her temper flared up.

“Yeah, no shit, Clarence.”

He tilted his head slightly but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t tell is he was confused or upset by her reply, and frankly she didn’t care. Her mood was plummeting fast. She finished her vodka and wished that she was able to get drunk. Abruptly standing, she turned to go back to the bar.

  
  


“Why do you call me Clarence?” He asked her before she could leave.

She looked back at him. “Are you serious?”

“I would not have asked if I was not.”

She leaned against the table. “It’s a movie. A very famous movie.”

He looked thoughtful and nodded. “A movie about angels.”

“Not really.” A plan began to form in her mind and she slowly smiled. “Come back next week and you can find out more.”

  
  


She went back to the bar and when she glanced back a few minutes later he was gone.

“I know that look,” Portia said, passing Meg another vodka.

“What look?”

“You're up to something.”

“I'm a demon. I'm always up to something.” Portia raised her eyebrows and Meg grinned. “Fine. I'm going to seduce Castiel.”

“Castiel? Your angelic stalker?”

“Yep.”

“Meg, angels are our enemy. They can kill us with a touch and you want to screw one?”

“Yep.”

She wasn't about to admit it out loud, but Castiel was powerful, and if she could seduce him, she'd have an angelic protector. It went against her nature to want such protection, but she didn't reach her age by being unrealistic.

  
  


  
  


One week later Meg was back with a small bag in her hands. She felt a slight tingle of anxiety as she sat the bar. Portia set a vodka in front of her with raised eyebrows at the bag. Meg didn't bother to explain and resisted the urge to look around as she waited for the angel.

 

She didn't have to wait long. Five minutes after she arrived Portia nodded. Meg turned around to find Castiel standing way too close.

“Okay, personal space?” she asked.

Castiel took a step back. “You said—“

“Yeah, come on.” Meg downed the last of her drink and headed for the door. She looked behind her and saw that he was not following.

“This is a trap,” he said, though his tone was uncertain.

She sighed and patted the bag. “No, this is a DVD player and a movie. We can't exactly watch it here, so I'm going to the park across the street. Join me if you want.”

  
  


She left the bar and went to the tiny park. It was half a block of trees and grass, with a swing set and a few benches. Most importantly, at this time of night it was deserted and quiet. She settled on a bench and pulled the portable DVD player out of the bag. As she was sticking the DVD into it, Castiel sat down next to her.

“It's A Wonderful Life?” he asked, reading the case.

“Yep. Here.” She handed him one earbud, stuck the other in her ear, and pressed play.

  
  


Meg actually wasn't that big of a fan of the movie. She liked the dark alternate reality, but she found the ending too sickly sweet for her taste. So as the movie drew to a close she found herself watching Castiel instead. His eyes were glued to the screen and his forehead was wrinkled in obvious confusion. She chuckled silently to herself and pressed stop when the credits began to roll.

“I do not know where humans got that idea about angles and wings. We do not have to earn them,” he said, his tone laced with disapproval.

“You don't go around creating alternate realities to solve some humans emotional problems either but...” She shrugged and stuck the DVD player back in the bag.

“It was entertaining though.” He stood and faced her. “...thank you.”

She crossed her arms. “And how difficult was that for you to say?”

“It was not difficult. Just uncomfortable.” He paused and tilted his head. “Though not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be.”

A moment later he was gone with the sound of flapping wings. Meg stood and headed for home, satisfied with how the beginning of her plan had worked out.

  
  
  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to TanyaReed for betaing this!

Castiel appeared in the alley next to the bar as usual the next Friday. He entered the building and was slightly alarmed at how eager he was. Looking around, he spotted Meg on her usual stool. The bartender gave him a disapproving look before nodding to Meg. Meg turned around on the stool and rolled her eyes.  
“You can report that I'm still up to boring nothingness,” she turned back to the counter,  
“I was actually hoping that perhaps we could watch another movie together,” he replied.  
Meg turned back to him, a smile on her face. He couldn't help but smile back, though he had no idea why. “Really? Are you asking me on a date, Clarence?”  
His smile dimmed and he was at a loss as to how to reply. He wasn't really asking her on a date...was he? No. He had simply enjoyed viewing the Christmas movie with her and wanted to watch another.  
With her.

“I didn't bring my DVD player,” she said after his long silence.  
He nodded and tried to hide his disappointment. “Very well. I—“  
“You could always come back to my place, though. I have a nice big screen perfect for movies. If you're brave enough, that is.”  
He bristled at her insult and then saw that she was looking at him with a small smile. Oh. This was not an insult but...a flirtation?  
“It's not a trap?” he asked in an attempt at flirting back.  
“Oh, it totally is. A horrific one involving popcorn.”  
“I...” He didn't know how to continue things so he fell silent.   
“Come on.” Meg hopped off her stool and finished the last swallow of her drink before leading him out of the bar. They walked down several blocks in silence. Castiel looked around the rundown neighborhood with interest. Many of the walls were covered with graffiti and the people they passed kept their heads down and hurried on. He saw they did this with everybody and realized it was self preservation, not because they were passing an angel and a demon.  
“Is this neighborhood violent?” he asked quietly.  
“Yep. Gangs, drugs, prostitution. The works. So much chaos nobody notices little old me. We're here,” she said, stopping in front of a building. It was a six story apartment building that looked abandoned. The doors and windows on the first two floors were boarded up. He looked at her questioningly.  
“Top floor,” she told him and vanished.

He teleported to the top floor and was surprised by what he saw. Instead of filth and decay, the large open space was clean well kept. The walls were brick and a light cream color. A large television was placed against one wall with a sofa and coffee table in front of it. Next to the TV was a shelf that held a lot of DVDs.  
Against the far opposite wall was a bed with a dark purple blanket. A wooden nightstand held a lamp and thick book. He really wanted to know what she was reading.  
The kitchen was small, of course, since demons didn't eat, but a variety of liquor bottles lined the counter.  
“What? You didn't think all demons lived in squalor, did you?” she asked, taking off her leather jacket and tossing it carelessly onto the back of the sofa.  
“Well....yes.”  
She headed into the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and pulled out a box. He went over to the coffee table and picked up a magazine. It was all about celebrity gossip.  
“The younger ones do. They seem to think it is some kind of badge of honor or that it shows how tough and evil they are. Us older demons prefer our comforts.We know we're tough and have no need to prove it stupidly.”  
The sound of popcorn popping filled the kitchen.  
He wandered over to her DVDs and began to examine the collection. “May I choose one?”  
“It's why you're here.”  
He went through the collection, passing over the ones that seemed too violent. Finally he settled on one that about people on a spaceship that sounded interesting.  
Setting the case in front of the television, he joined her in the kitchen. She had placed the popcorn in a bowl and was adding melted butter and salt to it. She handed him the bowl, grabbed a bottle of bourbon off the counter, and went into the living room.

While he got settled on the sofa, she put the DVD in. “Good choice. I'm surprised.”  
He tried the popcorn. It was good. The simple flavors were not too overpowered by the taste of each individual molecule.  
The movie began and Meg settled herself opposite him. Unlike with the last movie they watched,  she removed her boots and curled her legs up on the sofa. He was surprised that she was getting so comfortable with him.  
It must have shown because she smirked at him. “Don't be fooled. I have about ten weapons hidden in this room.”  
“I would be disappointed if you did not.” He paused. “I have my angel blade.”  
“Good to know.”

The movie was interesting, but he found himself mainly watching Meg. She was completely focused on the film and even laughed at the humorous parts. Her entire face would crinkle up, and her laugh caused a strange, pleasant shiver in his vessel that he had never felt before. It made him wish he had chosen a comedy just so he could hear her laugh more.  
“Am I really that fascinating?” she asked him towards the end of the movie.  
“I...I am sorry,” he stammered, embarrassed. He kept his eyes firmly on the movie until the end.

 

  
The next day the Winchester brothers contacted him for some assistance translating some Enochian. After completing that easy task he found himself lingering with them. He had a question but was uncertain as how to ask. He had never really brought up anything truly personal with them.  
But then, until recently, he had never had anything truly personal to bring up. Having free will was changing everything.  
“Something you need, Cas?” Dean asked, taking his toothbrush from Cas' hand. Castiel had been going through Dean's bag.  
“I have  a question of a personal nature,” Cas said.  
“It's for brushing my teeth,” Dean said, waving the toothbrush at him before stuffing it back into his bag.  
“No. I mean... How do you thank a woman for a pleasant evening?”  
Dean froze with his hands in his bag. Across the room, Sam looked up from his laptop, his eyes wide.  
“What?” Dean asked.  
“I spent last night with a woman and I would like to show my appreciation. Let her know that I enjoyed myself and would like to do it again. How do I do so?”  
“Well, I usually pay them. Or buy them breakfast,” Dean said.  
That made no sense. Why would he...? Oh. Castiel smiled, feeling embarrassed. “I see. You assume she is a woman of ill repute and that I had sexual relations with her. She is not and I did not. We watched a movie and then I left.”  
“Ah. Well...gifts are nice, I guess.”  
“Flowers,” Sam said. “You're just beginning to date, right? Don't go for anything too big or expensive. Flowers are a good choice.”  
“There are so many flowers. How do I know what to choose?” he asked.  
“If you don't know her favorite then pick what makes you think of her. That's also a good conversation starter. Chicks dig that sappy stuff,” Dean said with a grin.  
He wasn't so sure that Meg was sappy. Or that she would appreciate being called a “chick.” He didn't say so though.  
“I see. Thank you.”  
“No problem. And congratulations, buddy. Dating is a big step,” Dean said with a pat on Cas' shoulder.

 

Instead of going to the bar the next Friday Castiel went straight to her apartment. Feeling it would be rude to just appear inside, he knocked on the door. She opened it, and did not seem surprised to see him. He held out the flower he had chosen.  
It was a piece of a wild rose plant. The flowers were a deep pink and the stems were densely covered in thorns.  
“Really?” she asked, rolling her eyes. She didn't take the flower but let him into the apartment.

The next week he left a Venus flytrap outside her door. When he showed up for their weekly movie he found it in the kitchen window. She didn't mention it, and neither did he.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter contains lines from the Season 6 episode Caged Heat.

Meg sighed and took a large swallow of vodka. Next to her, Castiel shifted and popped another kernel of popcorn into his mouth. He chewed slowly and smiled.   
“I do not understand why they don't simply speak to each other. It's a simple miscommunication,” Castiel said thoughtfully.  
“Then the movie would be over in the first fifteen minutes,” she replied, taking another drink. “They have to engage in wacky hijinks that teach them valuable life lessons about how important family and relationships are before they can reconcile.”  
This was the last time she let him bring a movie.  
Damn, she wished she was able to get drunk.

Meg was thoroughly bored by halfway through the film. She hated romantic comedies. Judging by the utter confusion Castiel was exhibiting, she thought thought that maybe he had been told this was an appropriate date movie. He seemed entertained though, and honestly, his expressions were almost worth it.  
Almost.  
She moved closer to him and rested her arm across the back of the sofa. Slowly, she began to run her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. He froze for a moment, but didn't stop her. After a few minutes he relaxed and leaned into her touch. She moved her fingers to the top of his head, amused that his hair naturally stuck up in a way that resembled feathers.  
“That's nice,” he murmured, his eyes drifting half-closed.  
“Mmm hmm. What about this?”  
She let her fingers lightly trail down the side of his face to his neck and under the collar of his shirt.  
“I don't...” He turned slightly to look at her, and she firmly pressed her lips against his.  
It took all of three seconds for her to realize that he had never been kissed before. He sat, unresponsive for so long that she wasn't sure if he was going to react at all. Then he reached up and cupped her face, returning the kiss.   
“You're a quick learner,” she said when they parted.   
“I had hoped it was not that obvious,” he said, looking away.  
“Oh yeah. It was. But it's actually a good thing,” she said, toying with his collar.  
“How?”  
“Because practice, lots of practice, makes one perfect,” she told him, leaning in.  
The stupid movie was ignored the rest of the night.

o.O.o

Three weeks had passed since their first kiss, and  their subsequent dates had been most enjoyable. He had been determined to practice his kissing technique, and Meg had been more than willing to help him. However, on their last date Meg had done something that unnerved him, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Castiel finished advising the Winchesters and sat down in front of the television in case they needed more assistance. Cas was growing more and more fond of television, and he was sure that he would be able to find something entertaining to watch.  
He clicked through the channels until he came across an adult entertainment movie. He had never seen one before, though he was aware of what it was. Perhaps this could help him with his problem with Meg.

"This is very complex," he said after trying to figure out the plot for a few minutes. "If the pizza man truly loves this babysitter, why does he keep slapping her rear? Perhaps she has done something wrong."  
"You're watching porn? Why?" Dean asked from across the room.  
"It was there," he replied in a half truth.  
Dean got up from the table and switched the television off. "You don't watch porn in a room full of dudes, and you don't talk about it."  
Castiel sighed, frustrated that he had once again got human behaviour wrong, but even more frustrated that it had been in vain. The pizza man movie would not help him with Meg. He highly suspected that if he copied any of the pizza man's actions Meg would stab him. His date was tomorrow. He didn't know what he was going to do.  
"Cas? What's going on? This isn't like you," Dean asked.  
Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, he looked away from his friend. He wasn't sure what to say or even if Dean would understand.  
"I'm going to go get some dinner," Sam told them, getting up from the table. Cas knew there was still leftover pizza and was grateful for Sam's attempts to give them some privacy.

"Cas?" Dean asked after Sam had left.  
"My woman-friend has...indicated...that she wishes to...engage in physical intimacy...with me," he said, looking everywhere but at his friend.  
"That's great! What's the problem?"  
"The problem is...I'm not sure what..." he didn't finish his statement, too ashamed.

Dean sighed and sat down on the other bed. He ran his hands over his face and cleared his throat. "Okay, let's start at the beginning. Are you sure this is what she wants? She told you? Because no offence, Cas, but you're you and you're not known for being an expert on human behaviour."  
"She kissed me and climbed into my lap."  
Dean's eyebrows rose. "That's definitely...yeah. And what did you do?"  
"Thanked her and left."  
Dean gave a sharp laugh before clearing his throat and schooling his features into a serious look. "Okay, not the correct response."  
"I am aware of that fact. I panicked." He was a warrior and he ran. The shame was great.  
"Cas, it's all right. I'm guessing you ran because you're still--" Dean broke off and waved his hand in Castiel's direction.  
"Yes, I still have my purity."  
"Guys don't call it that," Dean corrected before continuing. "Look, you're making too big of a deal out of it. Just do it."  
"I don't know how!" Castiel exclaimed, standing up. "I've observed humanity for thousands of years so I know the mechanics of sex but I also know it is more than mechanics. I want to make her happy, Dean, and I don't want to do the wrong thing."  
His feelings for Meg were stronger than anything he had ever felt. They had to be or he would not be considering this course of action. As an angel he did not have sexual attraction or desire. Yet, he knew that Meg did. The idea of pleasing Meg was what attracted him.

"Well, porn is not going to help you. It's fantasy," Dean shook his head. "Okay, I can tell you a few things, then we end this chick-flick moment, okay?"  
Castiel nodded and sat back down, eager for his friend's advice.  
"First and the most important: Enthusiastic yes, or nothing at all. If at any point she hesitates or does not want to continue—at any point—you stop. Got it?"  
"Yes."  
"Same goes for you. You don't like something or want to stop, you let her know. Don't continue for her sake or let her talk you into it.”  
Castiel nodded.  
"Finally, stick to the basics. Nothing fancy. Relax. Have fun. I'm guessing she's a virgin too?"  
"No. She's experienced."  
"Experienced women are the best." Dean grinned and stood. "You'll be fine."

 


	4. Chapter 4

Meg roughly rubbed the towel against her damp hair and tossed it onto the bathroom counter. Picking up her comb, she began to try to untangle the rat's nest that was her hair.  
She was so preoccupied that she barely noticed the slight breeze and flutter of wings. She felt his presence before Castiel appeared in the bathroom doorway.  
“I hope you don't mind my coming by when it's not Friday,” he said by way of greeting.  
“If I minded I would have warded the place against you,” she answered, tugging on a particularly nasty snarl. “I'm surprised you're back. You left in a hurry last time.”  
“I know.”  
“What happened? I thought you enjoyed kissing.”  
“I do. I was just very surprised when you climbed on top of me,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.  
“Are you a virgin, Castiel?” she asked though she already knew the answer. It was very obvious. She couldn't believe her luck. She had caused a virgin angel to fall for her. Her reputation when her fellow demons finally found out would know no limit.  
“Of course I am,” he said, sounding offended.  
She shrugged, stung at the unspoken insult. “I'm not,” she replied and furiously pulled the comb through her hair.  
“I know you're not.”  
“I enjoy sex, but I'm not a whore,” she said, referring to the favorite insult that others liked to use against her.  
“I never thought you were,” he replied, and she could detect no lie in his voice.  
She set down the comb and turned to him, crossing her arms. “I want to have sex with you.”  
“That's why I'm here,” he muttered, looking away.  
“Really?”  
“I wish to lie with you as well,” he said, his voice quieter than normal.  
She took a few steps closer to him. “Well, then, I think you'd better kiss me.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It wasn't like their other kisses. It was hesitant, and when she touched him, she found that he was shaking.  
That made her pause. Was his virginity really that big of a deal to him? She couldn't believe it. He was a male. The importance of male virginity had never really been a big deal.   
But he was an angel, and she supposed angels were supposed to be innocent and pure, unlike her sinful demonic self.

She reached up and attempted to rub the back of his neck, knowing it would make him relax. It was difficult because she was barefoot and he was so much taller than she was. For the first time she regretted picking such a petite human suit.

Abruptly, he picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom and to her bed, where he gently set her down. Turning his back, he carefully undressed until he was down to a pair of pristine white boxers. When he turned around she was very surprised to see how muscular and toned he was.  
“Okay, if you could just walk around like that forever, that'd be great,” she said with a grin.  
“I think there are human laws that prohibit that,” he said and then shrugged. “My vessel did enjoy working out.”  
“And I am very thankful for that fact,” she said, climbing up onto her knees and running her hands up his chest. He was no longer shaking.  
“I wish you were able to see my true self without burning up,” he said shyly, taking one of her hands in his. “I have six wings.”  
She kissed his neck. “Really? That a lot?”  
“The most.”  
Her free hand slid down his chest and she lightly ran her nails against his skin. She was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.   
“All of us seraphs do,” he continued.  
“Castiel?” she said, pulling away from him a little.  
“Yes?”  
“Shut up and kiss me.” She tugged on the towel she was wearing off and tossed it to the floor. His eyes widened as he took in her body. “Touch me.”  
“I...” He sounded uncertain, so she took his hand and placed it on her. Kissing him, she pulled him down onto the bed with her.

Meg had never been one to go for the inexperienced partners. For her, sex was either a tool or an energetic few hours of fun. Yet, instead of getting frustrated, she found herself enjoying being with Castiel. Thankfully, he learned fast when she taught him just how to touch her. He was incredibly eager to please, and there was something endearing about explaining that no, she wasn't hurt, that was a good sound, and he should be proud of himself.

He did have boundaries though, as she found out when at one point she not-so-lightly bit his shoulder. He gave a startled cry and pushed her away.  
“Please don't,” he said, his tone confused. “That hurt. Why would you want to hurt me?”  
“I...” She looked down at him and frowned. Most of the partners she had been with had liked it rough. It was expected with her being a demon. “I'm used to it being asked of me. Some like it.”  
“I do not understand. You like that? You want me to hurt you?” He gripped her waist and his thumbs rubbed small circles on her hips.  
She bit her lip and tilted her head, surprised. Nobody had asked what she wanted in a long, long time. She had always just done what was expected of her and asked of her, and hey, there was still pleasure, so whatever.  
But had she really wanted it that way?  
“No, I don't,” she said quietly and leaned down, gently kissing him.

 

Later that night, she lay curled up, fully relaxed. Castiel was next to her, his arm around her middle, lightly holding her. She refused to call it cuddling. Meg did not cuddle.  
“Was that okay?” he asked, breaking the silence.  
“Mmm. Better than okay. You did good, virgin angel,” she replied, stretching and moving closer to him.  
He kissed her shoulder. “Thank you.”  
She chuckled and burrowed further under the blankets. She wasn't cold, of course, but she liked the feeling of them.   
“I wish I could see your wings,” she confessed. “It's unfair that you can see my true form and I can't see yours.”  
“They are magnificent,” he said with pride. “I'm glad I can see you. You're beautiful.”  
She sat up and looked at him, suddenly angry. Her true form wasn't beautiful. It was terrifying with it's scars and spines and twists. She had received it through pure torture. “That's not funny.”  
“I'm not trying to make a joke. All that thorny pain is so beautiful.”  
He looked utterly sincere and his words caused a strange feeling inside. She didn't know what it was and didn't want to begin to examine it, so she shoved it out of her mind and laid back down. “Shut up. I don't like poetry,” she told him.  
He fell silent, and she was grateful. She just wanted to continue to relax and enjoy being with him.  
Though she couldn't get a vague, uneasy sense that something important had happened out of her mind.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Meg awoke suddenly.

No, that couldn't be right. She was a demon, and demons didn't sleep.  

Yet, she felt as if she had been sleeping, or at the very least not conscious for a while. Looking at the clock on her wall, it had been two hours since she had laid down on her bed.

  


Feeling unnerved, she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of bourbon off the counter. She took a long swallow, but the second the alcohol hit her stomach she gagged. Thankfully the sink was nearby because it all came up along with a good amount of bile.

Running the water, she rinsed her mouth.

What the hell was that? Demons didn't vomit.

  


Something had to be wrong with her meat suit. The easiest thing to do would be to vacate it and find a new one. She had grown quite fond of this one, though. She was all alone in it. No human soul cowering in the back of her mind or screaming at her. Sure, the fact that the original inhabitant was horrified was part of the fun. But after a while it just got annoying.

  


She went into her bedroom and lay down on the bed. Focusing inward, she began to monitor. Slowly, she began with the head and moved down the body. It couldn't be a cold or virus. Demons didn't get sick. She didn't think that it could be a spell. She had been laying low for months, and she didn't think she had pissed anyone off recently.

  


There. Something was low in the abdomen. In the uterus, actually. It hadn't been there the last time she had done any monitoring. It felt...strange, like it was giving off some kind of energy. Hesitantly, she reached out her demonic energy and touched it. It seemed to flare and she realised that it was giving off angelic grace.

What the hell?

  


She got as close to it as she dared and tried to figure out what it was. It seemed to be a ball of cells, yet it...

...it had a soul that seemed to be a mix of angelic grace and demonic energy.

It was a goddamn baby.

She was pregnant.

“No,” she said out loud. “No fucking way.”

She felt invaded. Violated. This was her meat suit and she had not given anything permission to take up residence.

Worse, she had not given anyone permission to impregnate her.

How dare he!

  


Gathering together her power, once again she focused inward. Knowing this would hurt, but it was necessary, she slammed all of her power at the tiny ball of cells. She used all her strength and attacked it, tried to force it out of her.

  


A great wave of angelic energy slammed into her power, obliterating it, and coming after her. It flooded her, overpowered her. She felt as though her blood were boiling, and her insides, her true self, were frying.

She felt like she was dying. Again.

  


o.O.o

  


In Heaven, Castiel found Raphael in a heaven that looked like an office. The walls were wooden and the furniture leather. It was all quite unattractive.

“Whose Heaven is this?” he asked Raphael.

“It doesn't matter,” Raphael dismissed. “Castiel, I've asked you here because your garrison is assigned to monitor humans, correct?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“Indeed there is. Something has happened under your watch. Alarms are going off in conception. Something has been created that should not have been.”

Castiel frowned. Conception was considered a cushy job for an angel. Nothing happened there that was ever worrying. It was basically just counting. He hadn't even know there were alarms there.

“I don't understand.”

Raphael stood. “You like the humans, correct? You're fond of them?”

He knew this was a tricky question. Most angels were dismissive, if not outright disdainful of humans.

“No need to lie, Castiel. You sided with the Winchesters and stopped the Apocalypse for the sake of humanity. Your feelings are quite well known.”

“Yes, I like the humans.”

Raphael nodded. Slowly, his older brother began to pace around Castiel. It made him feel like he was a mouse and Raphael [were] a lion about to pounce.

“Yet, despite this love, you keep yourself apart, right? You do not engage in any...untoward behavior, correct?”

“I...I don't understand the question,” Castiel answered, confused.

“Relationships, Castiel. I'm asking if you have engaged in any relationships with the hairless apes? Girlfriends?” Raphael's lip twisted in disgust. “Sexual activity?”

“I have not engaged in any untoward behaviour with any humans,” Castiel replied honestly.

Raphael stared at him and Castiel forced himself to remain expressionless and calm.

“All right. I believe you. You may go.”

“Raphael, may I ask what is going on?”

“It seems that there is an angel who loves humanity even more that you do. That's all you need to know. Goodbye.”

  


Castiel left Heaven and had the strongest urge to see Meg, even though now it might now be risky. Heaven was on the lookout for something. Yet, he had already been questioned and cleared. He hoped it was safe.

  


He found Meg lying on her bed. She was severely burned around her eyes, and looked as though she had been attacked. He could feel the energy coming from her, but was confused. There were no other angels in the apartment, but it felt as if one had tried to smite her. Meg moaned and opened her mouth. She began to smoke out but had barely even started before blusih-grey tendrils of energy also left her mouth. They wrapped around the column of black smoke and pulled it back inside her vessel. Blue-grey energy engulfed her,and her injuries were healed. Meg let out a frustrated cry.

"Meg?" he asked, completely confused.

"It won't let me destroy it, and it won't let me leave!"

  


Behind him he heard the flutter of wings and turned around, his angel blade falling into his hand.

"I don't...you're dead," Castiel stammered, stunned. Standing a few feet away was another angel. The archangel Gabriel, who was supposed to have been killed by Lucifer months ago.

"Yet looking remarkably still handsome. We gotta get out of here before the cavalry arrives," Gabriel said and snapped his fingers. Castiel found himself in a stylishly and expensively decorated apartment.

"Where are we?" he asked but didn't care about the answer as he saw Meg slowly standing up. "Meg?"

"Don't touch me," she ordered when he tried to help her, "because I swear to Lucifer I will rip off your--"

"Okay, enough of that," Gabriel interrupted what would have probably been a colourful description of maiming. "To answer your question, we're in Brazil. My place. I had to get you both out of there before the angels came and smote the both of you into nothing. Or should I say the three of you."

"What are you talking about? Gabriel, why would our brothers and sisters want to do that?" He looked at Meg, but she just glared back, an expression of utter loathing on her face. "I don't understand what is going on."

 

Too much was happening at once. Gabriel was back? Last Castiel heard was that his archangel brother had given his life to save the Winchesters from Lucifer. Meanwhile Meg was angry at Castiel for some reason, and his angelic breatherin had tried to smite her, and apparently had plans for him also.

"Why did the angels try to smite Meg?" he asked, picking a topic to address first. "What did she do?"

"They didn't," Meg answered. "It was the thing. I tried to get rid of it and it protested. Loudly and painfully."

"Thing?" Had Meg been attacked by another demon or a monster? But the energy signature had had a distinctly angelic feel to it.

"You really don't know, do you?" Gabriel asked. "You have no idea what you created."

"I don't understand--"

"You really are a featherbrain, aren't you?" Meg asked. "He means the thing currently making itself at home in my meat suit'swomb. The thing that you put there, Castiel."

  


No, that... When something was in a women's womb, that usually meant she was pregnant. And Meg couldn't be pregnant, especially not by him. Angels did not procreate. It was impossible. They were beings of creation but they did not create. He told them as much.

 

Gabriel snorted and flopped down in a chair. "Good old Dad. He says don't do something, that you can't do something, and then gives you the ability to do so as a test of character. Yeah, Cassie, angels can procreate. The offspring are called Nephilim. A few have popped up over the centurieswhen an angel has wanted to experience humanity up close and personal. Heaven has always found them, though, and smote the shit out of all parties involved." Gabriel paused and opened a candy bar. "And that's just a human and an angel. What you've done is even worse,little bro. Fraternizing with the enemy. Shame."

Meg took one of Gabriel's candy bars and opened it, taking a huge bite. She swallowed and made a face, looking at the food in confusion.

"Little guy probably depleted his energy with that mini-smite," Gabriel said, tossing her another candy bar. She glared but took it.

Castiel slowly sat down on the sofa. He watched Meg devour the candy and open the second bar. Demons didn't eat. Their demonic power sustained them, similar to angels and their grace. The fact that she was eating could be considered evidence she was actually with child.

But he needed more proof.

  


He stood up and walked over to Meg. Her eyes widened and she raised her hands and tried to attack him with her powers. He brushed off the demonic energy and she backed away from him, swearing. He ignored her and didn't stop until she was up against the wall.

"Castiel?" Gabriel called, his tone worried.

Firmly, Castiel placed a hand against her abdomen, trying to sense if there were truly something in there. There was. It was new, but he could feel the energy pouring off of it. It felt like a tiny nuclear reactor.

His child.

His and Meg's child.

“You're pregnant,” he told her, looking at her in wonder.

“No shit,” she replied. A second later he felt a punch against his jaw.

"No offense, but you totally deserved that," Gabriel said.

Meg took a seat on the sofa looking satisfied at his discomfort. She took another bite of candy and smiled bitterly.

  
  


 


	6. Chapter 6

Meg sat on the floor of the hallway looking out the glass doors. She wanted to go outside, but the warding keeping her safe didn't cover the balcony, so she sat and watched the waves crash on the distant shore. In the living room the two angels talked. Their tones were urgent, but she didn't bother eavesdropping. What was there to say? She was knocked up. End of story.

 

She picked up a bottle of beer she'd stolen from the kitchen and pulled off the cap. Raising it to her mouth, she was shocked when it was pulled from her hand.

“I've flayed people for less,” she said flatly and looked up at Castiel.

“I'm sure you have,” he replied calmly.  
She sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. “What do you want?”

“Are you all right?”

“I'm as far from all right as I can get.”

“Meg, I'm sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry is too little in this case. It doesn't change anything or make it better.”

“What would?” he asked, and his face was so serious and so sad that she wanted to punch it. Again.

“Get this abomination out of me,” she said, standing. When he didn't reply or move she nodded. “Exactly. Other than that nothing will make this better.”

  


Meg walked into the living room, needing to get away from him. She felt caged, trapped. The walls of the very nice apartment were closing in, and if she didn't get some air or space she was going to commit an act of violence.

Before she reached the front door, Gabriel stopped her. “Whoa, that's not a good idea.”

“Move.”

“Look, I know that you're a very angry little demon, but leaving? No. Your little passenger is currently putting off grace signals like a beacon.”

Meg plunged both hands into her hair and tugged on the strands. A moment later she lashed out with her power and turned the coffee table into splinters.

Gabriel crossed his arms and frowned at the remains of his furniture. “Well, I gotta admire that you made all the pieces uniform in size.”

  


Meg rolled her eyes and stalked off to the nearest bedroom, slamming the door. She flopped down on the bed. A moment later, the door slowly opened.

“Meg?” Castiel asked quietly.

“When someone walks off and slams a door, it is usually a sign that they want to be left alone.” she said.

“That may be, but we need to talk.”

“About?” she asked, sitting up.

“We're having a baby, Meg.”

“Who's this 'we?' I'm the one knocked up, you're the one who knocked me up. What, do you think this is a relationship? You and me and baby makes three? We're going to get a house with a white picket fence?” She laughed and crossed her arms. She couldn't lash out physically, but she could verbally. Alistair had taught her that truly exquisite torture had a mental component. Get in a person's mind, find their weakness, and flay it until it was raw.

She had been an excellent apprentice.

 

“Poor deluded Castiel. This was never a relationship. I was using you. I needed protection and you were the perfect mark. Appearing every week like clockwork? It was almost too easy.”

“Meg, we—“

“We what?” She widened her eyes and stood. “Oh, you mean we fucked? You thought that meant something? Honey, I've fucked hundreds of people over the centuries. All of them better than you.”

She waited for his response...needed it. Needed to hurt him as much as possible.

“It's not going to work,” he finally said. “I know that you're scared and angry, so you are lashing out as demons do. But vulgarities and insults will not do anything to me.”

He tilted his head and looked at her in a way that made her feel like she'd been stripped. Not just her clothes but all the way down to her demonic form.

“I knew right away that you were after something from me. I figured out it was protection soon after. That didn't bother me.”

She hated that she had been so transparent, and hated him for letting her continue as though she were tricking him. “Why the hell not? I'm a demon. It's literally celestially ordained that we hate each other.”

“Because you're different, Meg. Don't forget that I can see you. Not just your true form but...you. You're not all darkness. I don't hate you.  Did you truly never realize how I feel about you? I—I love you.”

His words made her freeze in place as her mind tried to comprehend them. “No. No, you're wrong.“  
“Meg.” He reached for her, and she slapped his hands away.

“No. You...” She struggled for what to say. His words were spinning around in her mind, and they made her want to run. Especially since a part of her, that same part that had actually enjoyed being with him, liked what he had said. She pushed it down. “You don't love me. You can't! I'm a demon, you moron. Demon. Evil, hate-filled, twisted...thing. I've done things you can't comprehend.”

“I know that.”

“Then what the fuck, Castiel? Use your brain!”

“I don't understand.”

“Obviously. Let me spell it out for you then. You can't love me because there is nothing to love. Nothing. I have no good in me.”

He simply shook his head and walked to the door. “I will continue to protect you, like you wanted. Both of you.”

She watched him leave and sat heavily on the bed.

o.O.o

Gabriel was waiting for him when he returned to the living room. It was obvious from his expression that he had been listening. Well, there was no expectation of privacy with celestial beings.

“Castiel, she's right. You can't love her.”

“I understand that it is against the rules. I did not set out to...” He broke off and looked at the now fixed coffee table.

“That has nothing to do with it. I'm not one of them.” He pointed up. “I like breaking the rules. That's why you were always my favorite little sibling. I saw from the start that you were different. I'd hoped that one day you'd break away.”

He wondered if that was why he was drawn to Meg. They were similar in that they were different.

“Thank you,” he replied shyly.

“Consider me Team Megstiel. But, Cassie, it's doomed.”

“Why does it have to be? The baby?”

“Yes,” Gabriel sat down in his chair and looked the most sober Castiel had ever seen the archangel. “Not because every being from both Heaven and Hell will be after it. Castiel, there had been several Nephilim created before I left.”

“They were smote, correct?”

“That's the official story, and yes, all the angels and offspring were.”

Castiel felt a shiver go through him as he thought about Gabriel's words. “I don't...”

“Castiel, not a single mother survived the birth.”


	7. Chapter 7

The next day Meg had planned on avoiding her angelic baby daddy as much as possible. However, he awoke her a few hours after she fell asleep to inform her that Gabriel was leaving. The archangel was reluctantly ending his self induced exile to find any information concerning the current celestial crisis he could. So she and Castiel needed to find a new place to lie low.  
Which was very difficult because of the beacon growing in her.  
Castiel decided to reach out to his friends. It didn't matter that she reminded him that they would probably try to kill her on sight. He simply vowed to protect her and, after a phone call to get their location, teleported them away.

  
Meg blinked and found herself in a shabby motel room. Before she could explore this further, her stomach heaved. Spotting a garbage can nearby, she grabbed it and emptied her breakfast into it.  
“Cas? Why is there a woman puking in our garbage can?” she heard Dean ask.  
“I suspect that our method of travel aggravated her morning sickness,” Castiel replied.  
Meg rolled her eyes and puked again.  
“Okay, why are you traveling with a pregnant woman?”  
“Dean, I—we—need your help.”  
“Yeah, no problem. We just finished a case. What's going on?”  
Her stomach settling, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened. Turning to the men, she saw Dean had his back to her, but Castiel and Sam were facing her. Sam's eyes widened and he lunged for the bag on his bed. “Dean!”  
Dean spun around and saw her. “What the hell?”  
Meg raised her hand to attack as Dean also reached for the bag. Within moments she had a gun pointed at her and Dean was unsheathing the demon killing blade.

“Dean, no,” Castiel exclaimed and moved between Dean and Meg. “You can't hurt her.”  
“Yeah, I can. Cas, that's Meg!”  
“I'm aware of who she is.”  
“Then you know we need to gank her. Now.”  
“You can't.”  
“And why the hell not?”  
“She's pregnant. Right?” Sam said grimly, lowering his gun. “That's what you said.”  
Meg sighed. “Unfortunately.”  
“She created a cambion and you haven't smote her yet?” Dean exclaimed.  
“It's not a cambion,” Castiel said.  
“It has to be. She's a demon inhabiting a human and that's what—”  
“Dean, it's not a cambion.” He paused and seemed to be trying to find the courage to tell them the truth. “Cambions are half demon and half human. I'm the father of her child.”  
“You're...the father?” Dean repeated, finally lowering the blade.  
“Yes.”  
Meg crossed her arms and leaned against the half wall separating the sitting area from the sleeping area. This was going to be entertaining now that she no longer feared being attacked...or throwing up.  
“How is that possible?”  
“We had sexual intercourse during which time my vessel—“  
Dean held up his hands. “Ah! I don't want to know what your vessel did!”  
Meg burst out laughing.  
“You asked how she got pregnant. Do you not know the basics of reproduction?”  
“I'm very aware, thank you. I meant, how can a demon and an angel reproduce?”  
“I don't know. I only recently found out that angels can reproduce. This is completely new.”  
Dean threw down the blade and wiped his hands over his face. He lowered them and looked at Meg. She just raised her eyebrow at him and waited.

“No,” Dean finally said.  
“No, what?”  
“No, we're not going to help you.”  
Meg wasn't the least bit surprised. She knew that the Winchesters were incredibly selfish. They had used Castiel in the past, influenced him to betray Heaven, and now were turning their backs on him. If they were in Hell it would be considered a thing of beauty.   
“Dean, please,” Castiel pleaded.  
“No. I don't...Meg, Cas? Meg. Out of all the demons you could have chosen to screw, you choose the one who has messed with my family the most? She possessed Sam! She killed Bobby's dog! She killed Ellen and Jo. You knew them! Ellen and Jo, Cas, and you expect me to help protect her? Hell, I'm tempted to give her to Crowley myself!”  
“Who?” Meg asked.  
Dean looked at her as though he were shocked she would dare speak to him. “What?”  
“Who the hell are Ellen and Jo?”  
Dean's face turned red. “They're the hunters that died in Carthage.”  
Meg thought for a second and slowly smiled. “Oh. Yeah. I remember now.” She hadn't actually killed them. The Hellhounds had mauled the kid and the mother stupidly chose to die to kill the Hellhounds.  
“You forgot about them? You actually forgot about them!”  
Meg shrugged. “They were unimportant.”  
“Meg,” Castiel admonished.  
Dean turned back to Castiel. “Get out. Now. Both of you.”  
“No, Dean,” Sam interrupted.  
“Sam.”  
“Dean, we have to help. There's a baby.”  
“I don't give a f—“  
“Dean. Cas is family. You don't turn your back on family. You know that.”  
Dean shook his head and looked down at the floor. She could practically see the idealism overwhelming his moral outrage. It was sickening.  
“Dean, after everything I've done you forgave me. You can forgive Cas too.”  
“No. I can't.” He sighed. “But Sam's right. After everything, you're family. We'll help you. But Cas? Keep that bitch away from me.”  
Castiel looked down and nodded. “Yes, Dean.”  
Meg rolled her eyes and contemplated reaching for the garbage again.

o.O.o

“There's a place we can go,” Sam began. “It's heavily warded. The highest warding I've seen, though you can probably add to it, Cas.”  
Castiel was confused. He knew of no place that the Winchesters frequented that was like that.   
“While you were off screwing a demon, we had an incident. Important thing is, we sorta inherited a place. A bunker,” Dean said.   
He frowned and felt a little disappointed that he had not been informed of such an important event in their lives.  
“Where is this place?” he asked.  
“Kansas.”

Dean wanted to take them in the Impala, but Castiel forbid it. He explained that the longer Meg and the baby were out in the open, the easier it would be for the angels to find them. After much tedious debate, it was decided that Castiel would take Sam and Meg to the bunker, and Dean would follow later in the Impala.  
Meg protested having to travel by Castiel. She insisted was perfectly capable of teleporting herself, but Dean refused to give her the address. She would be living at the bunker but unaware of its true location.

Sam gave Castiel the address on a piece of paper, and the angel teleported them away. They arrived at an abandoned building. Sam led them to a nearly hidden metal door. Castiel cautiously entered the building, feeling the thick, complex warding as he stepped through the door. Meg waited outside for a few minutes before Sam gave the clear signal.

After climbing down a metal staircase, they found themselves in a vast place. The first room had ancient computers and a table with a map of the world on it. The next room was a library with three long tables and many, many books.  
“Uh, why don't I show you around?” Sam asked.

After showing them the library, kitchen, and location of the bathrooms, he opened a door to a bedroom.  
“You can use this room. It's the furthest from Dean's.” Sam said.  
“This is fine, Sam, thank you.”  
“Can I get a TV in here?” Meg asked, looking at the sparse furnishings.  
“Meg...” he warned. They could not demand things.  
“There's no cable or dish, but if you hook it up to the internet it will work. I have one in my room. I'll bring it by and get a new one,” Sam said.  
“That is not necessary, Sam—“ Castiel protested.  
“It's fine. Really.” Sam said and left.

Castiel watched Meg take in the unadorned cement and brick walls and bare floors. The only furniture was a bed with a simple wooden frame, a nightstand and lamp, a desk and chair, and a sink and mirror. It was a far cry from her apartment or Gabriel's luxurious apartment. He remembered how she had said hiding didn't have to mean squalor. This was not squalor but it was a downgrade.  
“We will be safe here. You felt the warding,” he told her.  
“Yeah, okay. Whatever.” She removed her boots, pulled off her jeans and shirt, and climbed under the blankets.   
“We cannot complain or demand anything while here. Dean is looking for a chance to—“  
“Hey, don't think you can tell me what to do just cause you knocked me up.” she said, turning off the light.  
“I'm not trying to tell you what to do. It's just that I know the Winchesters.”  
“Not as well as I know Sam,” she reminded him. He frowned at the reminder that Sam too had a good reason to want Meg dead. This whole situation was a battle waiting to happen.  
“Sam seems to have let that no longer bother him. Dean, however...Ellen and Jo meant a lot to him.”  
“Whatever.”  
“Meg, did you really forget about them?”  
“I didn't bother to remember them in the first place. They were insignificant to me and my mission. My orders that day were the Winchesters. Nothing else mattered. So no, I didn't forget them and I don't feel bad about it. You know who and what I am. Don't think I'm going to change just because of this. Nothing can change me.”  
He didn't bother to reply, though her complete disregard bothered him. When she didn't speak again, he quietly left the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Chuck tuned out Becky's high pitched raving about the baby plot element and opened up his mind. He carefully filtered out all of the angelic grace signatures. There it was. Despite the warding keeping them hidden, he could sense his new creation. It was strong and healthy.   
It was good.

 

o.O.o

  
  


Castiel hesitated at the kitchen doorway.  Both Winchesters were inside. Dean had arrived the previous evening and had not spoken to Castiel even once. It hurt more than Castiel thought  it would. He had always believed that he had a profound bond with Dean. After all, he had rescued Dean from Hell. Afterwards, Dean had been the one to encourage his rebelling from Heaven and stopping the apocalypse. Castiel had come to depend on Dean's advice as he explored his newfound free will.

  
  


Gathering his courage, he entered the kitchen. “Sam, may I speak to you alone?”

Both brothers looked at him in surprise.

Sam glanced at Dean and set down his bowl of cereal. “Uh, yeah, sure Cas.”

“What's wrong?” Dean asked, a cold look on his face. He knew that Dean would make this difficult.

“Nothing is wrong. I need Sam's assistance with something.”

“We're already assisting you. And your demonic baby mama.”

He looked away, not wanting to argue.

“Dean, stop,” Sam said tiredly and followed Castiel out of the kitchen.

  
  


“I was wondering if you could set up a credit card for me,” Castiel asked once they were in the library.

“Yeah, that shouldn't be too hard. You still have that fake ID we made you, right?”

They had made the ID for him the previous year. He had been cut off from Heaven and gradually losing his powers. The brothers had not wanted him to be completely without resources.

“Yes.”

“It should be easy then. Why, what do you need?”

“Meg is quite unhappy here,” he paused and realized that sounded bad. “I mean, not—“

“No. It's okay, I get it.”

Castiel nodded. “I was hoping to get a few things to make her stay here more comfortable.”

“That's really nice. Tell you what, I'll get your card set up and then drive you into town to get the stuff, okay?”

Castiel smiled, relieved. “Thank you, Sam.”

  
  


Their first stop in town wasn't for Meg. Castiel asked to be taken to a tattoo place.

“What?” Sam asked, shocked.

“I wish to have this tattooed on me.” He showed Sam a piece of paper. “They're Enochian sigils that will conceal me from angels.”

“That's a good idea. What about Meg?”

“As a demon, I'm not sure if it will work for her. Even if it could, I'm not sure if it would also conceal the baby's powers. Plus, the reading I've been doing says pregnant women should not get tattoos.”

  
  


After the tattoo they went to a home decor store. Castiel eyed a thick purple bedspread that was similar to the one Meg had had in her apartmentand began to have second thoughts.

“Perhaps this was a bad idea,” he said. “She would probably prefer to pick out her own things. She's very independent.”

“I think it's a great idea. Worst case we bring it all back,” Sam said.

Castiel nodded and chose the bedspread, matching sheets, and new fluffy pillows. He had read that a body pillow can be useful during pregnancy, so he also chose one of those. A wall art photo of the night sky full of stars was a last minute addition to the cart.

  
  


The store had a nursery section and Castiel wandered over. He took in the cribs, bassinets,  dressers, chairs, changing tables, toys, and moreand began to feel anxious.

“I'm going to be a father, Sam,” he said.

“Yeah, you are.”

“I do not know...” He gestured to the furniture. “I do not know what half this is for. How am I—“

“Stop. Most of this stuff you don't actually need. Okay? It's just...” Sam looked at a self-rocking swing chair. “It's just things.”

Castiel walked over to a selection of blankets and looked through them.

“You have plenty of time to figure this out. I mean, she's not even showing yet.”

“Nephilim pregnancies are only five months,” he explained quietly. “This is not a normal Nephilim pregnancy so it might be even shorter.”

He didn't want to think about it anymore. That would mean that Meg had even less time, and the thought hurt.

“Oh. Okay then. Cas, we'll come back. Today is about Meg.”

Castiel nodded, but a deep blue blanket with tiny yellow stars caught his eye. He picked it up and found that it was made from the softest material he had ever felt. He could actually picture wrapping his child in it. He placed it in the cart.

  
  


o.O.o

  
  


Meg stood in the kitchen looking through the fridge and pantry. She was hungry again, damn it, and nothing that was there really sounded good. Finally settling on  peanut butter and grape jelly, she got the ingredients out and began to make her sandwich.

She was spreading the peanut butter when she sensed another person enter the kitchen. Glancing behind her, she saw Dean standing in the doorway.

“Don't worry, I didn't take any of your precious beer or pizza,” she said.

“You know, I never thought you'd go this far with a scam. Though I should have known,” he said, walking into the kitchen.

“What?”

“Demons don't eat. They don't sleep either.”

“Ones pregnant by angels do, apparently.” She began to spread the jelly.

“What's your angle, Meg?”

“Again, I don't know what you're babbling about, Dean,” she said, annoyed. She turned halfway towards him and gripped the jelly covered butter knife, imagining all the damage it could do. He eyed it but otherwise didn't react.

“What are you doing to Cas?”

“Whatever he begs me to. And I so love it when he begs...” she said with a smirk.

Laughing at the look of disgust on his face, she finished making her sandwich and moved to leave. Dean reached out and grabbed her arm.

“What are you really pregnant with, Meg?”

“Bite me,” she said, pulling out of his grasp; surprised at her self control. Just a few months ago Dean would have been dead before he touched the ground. She saw Castiel in the hall. “Why do you even care?”

“Cas is my... I'm protecting him when he's too stupid to protect himself,” Dean replied.

Castiel moved closer to the door, confusion on his face.

Meg laughed. “Protection? Castiel is an angel, Dean, and he doesn't need your protection.”

“He might be an angel up there, but down here he's a baby in a trench coat. You took advantage of his stupidity.”

He was uncomfortably close to the truth, damn it. There was no way that she would allow him the satisfaction of knowing that though. “I didn't get knocked up on purpose. Now whether you believe that or not, I really don't care. There is something you should know, though. The baby? It's extremely capable of protecting itself...and it doesn't hold back when threatened.”

She shoved past him and into the hall. Pausing to see what Castiel would do, she saw the hurt in the angel's eyes. Disturbingly, the sight caused a small, unfamiliar feeling in her chest.

  
  


“You're back,” Meg said to him, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Yes. I would like to show you something.”  He gestured to the dormitory and she followed him.

Castiel stopped outside her door and opened it without stepping inside. She moved past him into the room.

“What the hell?” she asked, stunned. He had decorated her room. Surprisingly, everything he picked out was to her taste.

“Do you like it?” he asked shyly.

“Why did you do this?” she asked, eyeing the Venus flytrap on her desk.

“I wish for you to be comfortable while you are here.”

“Damn it, Clarence,” she swore, crossing her arms.

“If you do not like something, I can take it back. I kept all of the receipts.”

“No. It's prefect.” As much as she hated to admit it, his gesture made it really hard for her to continue to hate him.

  
  
  


 


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel knocked on the door to Meg's room. Sam had made pancakes for breakfast and there were enough left over for Meg to have some. Her morning sickness had finally subsided only to be replaced with a large appetite.  
Hearing no answer, he tried the door knob. He knew that she would not mind. Over the last month and a half their relationship had improved greatly. His decorating her room had not only made her more comfortable, but it seemed to have cooled her anger towards him. He knew that she had not forgiven him for the situation, but then he really did not expect her to. She was a demon, and forgiveness was not a demon quality. Still, she tolerated him now and even sought his company at times. It was not what they'd had before, but it was a start.

Meg was sound asleep. He entered the room and quietly closed the door.   
“Meg,” he quietly called.  
“You'd better have  good reason for waking me,” she said without opening her eyes.  
“Pancakes.”  
She opened one eye. “Keep talking.”  
“Sam made breakfast, and there's enough for you.”  
“You may remain unmaimed.”  
She got out of bed and began to pull on a large robe that she had found in the bunker. It had probably belonged to one of the long dead Men of Letters.  
Castiel took the opportunity to see how much her vessel had changed. He hardly recognized the woman he had bedded less than two months ago. Gone was her toned stomach, small breasts, and thin, angular face. Now her face was noticeably softer and fuller. Her breasts were larger and he marveled that she was already getting ready to provide nourishment for their child. There was now a noticeable roundness to her abdomen, evidence that their child was growing.  
Then he remembered that she would probably never get to feed their child, or even hold it. That all of these changes were leading to her death.  
“You want a picture or something?” Meg asked, pulling him from his thoughts.  
He forced a smile on to his face. “No. I was just thinking that it is time to get you some maternity clothing.”  
She narrowed her eyes. “I won't wear any of that frilly, pea-in-the-pod, bun-in-the-oven, 'look at how I'm the epitome of womanhood,' crap.”  
“You don't have to,” he replied, confused.  
“Good,” she said firmly, opening the door.  
He stopped her before she could leave. Carefully he placed a hand on her abdomen. She looked angry. “Have you felt any kicking yet?” he asked, removing his hand before she could yell at him.  
“No,” she replied crossing her arms.   
“Will you please tell me when you do?” She reluctantly nodded. “And...may I feel when it happens?”  
She was silent for a long moment. “Fine. Just ask first, okay? Consent, Castiel.”  
He thought being lectured on consent from a demon was highly ironic, but he nodded, vowing to respect her wishes.

They headed for the kitchen only to find that Sam and Dean were having an argument. Knowing that humans did not like being spied on, Castiel started to pull her out of the hallway. She shrugged him off.   
“—you're cooking for her?” Dean demanded.  
“No, Dean. I'm not cooking for her but I am including her. Lay off.”  
“No, Sam. This is too far. After everything that bitch has done—“  
“To me!” Sam shouted. “I'm the one that she possessed, not you. So I'm the one who gets to decide how to act!”  
“Not if you make the wrong decision. So, what, you're forgiving her now?”  
“Yes.”  
Meg looked at Castiel with raised eyebrows.   
“What the hell, Sam?”  
“I'm not forgetting but, yeah, I forgive her. After everything that's happened—“ His voice cracked a little. “—I need to let this go or I'll turn into an angry, bitter person.”  
“Like me, you mean.”  
“Yeah. God, Dean, Cas is like a brother to us and you just cut him off for a mistake that I'm pretty surprised has not happened to you.”  
“Thanks,” Dean replied flatly. “He shouldn't have—“  
“What? Done what you've encouraged? Tried to have a life? Found love?” Sam pressed.  
“Love!” Dean scoffed. “With that...”  
“They're having a kid together! Do you want him to just abandon them to make you happy?”  
“Of course not,” Dean replied. “I'd never want that for a kid.”  
“Then you need to get over it. 'Cause I'm pretty sure if it comes down to choice, Cas is going to choose his kid over you. And Meg comes with it.”

Castiel finally succeeded in dragging Meg away from the doorway and pulled her into the library.  
“Well that was entertaining,” she said, sitting down in a chair.  
He felt bad; he had never intended to cause strife between the brothers. Sam's kindness towards Meg had made him happy, but he had not thought about the cost.  
Dean's words though...the way Dean had called him a baby last month, and now this? It was too much. It seemed that the hunter did not respect him, perhaps had never respected him.  
No, Dean had...when he was following the behavior that Dean wished.  
Part of him wanted to get back in the hunter's good graces, but he couldn't. He was going to be a father, and he had Meg. They were truly his family.  
He looked at Meg, who was watching him carefully. She looked impatient but deep in her eyes he could see a vulnerability.  
“Sam is correct. I am not going to abandon you. I had hoped that that was apparent by now.”  
“You abandoned Heaven for them,” she said quietly.  
“I chose to go against Heaven because it was the right thing to do. I am choosing you and our child because it is the right thing to do, and I want to. I am billions of years old, Meg, and I have my own mind.”  
Meg looked away, adopting an expression of indifference, leaving him unsure if she believed his words.

o.O.o

Meg entered her room that afternoon to find two bags on her bed. Looking through them she pulled out over-sized t-shirts and loose flowing tops in the dark colors she preferred, black yoga pants, and maternity jeans. There were even a couple of nightgowns and some pajamas at the bottom of a bag.

She left her room and went into the library. All three men were at the tables. Dean was reading a magazine, while Castiel and Sam were gathered around a laptop. She looked over their shoulders and saw a screen of text and anatomical diagrams.  
“What are you reading?” she asked in distaste.  
Sam started, surprised, but Castiel calmly turned his head towards her. “I am studying midwifery and labor coaching. You will not be able to give birth in a hospital after all. Sam has agreed to assist.”  
“Wait, what? No. I don't want him anywhere near my vagina,” she protested.  
“Okay. Really?” Dean asked, tossing down his magazine in disgust.  
“It's an anatomical name. What? Would you rather I said—“  
“I'd rather not think about your meatsuit at all,” Dean replied.  
“Sam will not touch your vessel, Meg,” Castiel interrupted, watching her carefully. “I was intending for him to simply fetch supplies if needed.”   
“Yeah, that's what I was intending too...” Sam said slowly. “But it's good to know this stuff if something goes wrong.”  
“No,” Meg said, reaching between them to shut the laptop with more force than was necessary.  
“Meg, we need to start thinking about—“  
“No,” Meg said, quietly, crossing her arms. She could picture them crowded around her vulnerable form, poking and prodding and not knowing what they were doing.   
Castiel tilted his head and gave her that penetrating look. “Are you afraid to give birth?”  
Meg set her jaw. “Of course not.”  
“You are,” Dean countered, leaning back in his chair. He was obviously enjoying her discomfort.  
“It's normal for first time—“ Sam began.  
“It's not the first time,” she said quietly. Dean looked like he was ready to jump up and go hunting for her cambion spawn. “I've given birth ten times. I died from puerperal fever ,” she told them.  
“Post birth infection,” Castiel explained quietly.  
“Wait, I thought demons forgot their time as humans?” Dean asked.  
“Most do. Some of us remember,” she said, “The point is, I know what to do, you just need to catch. And wash your fucking hands,” she said, leaving the library.

She leaned against the hallway wall, out of sight, and mentally kicked herself. This was why demons did not like to recall their previous lives if they could help it. It brought up a ton of shit that created an emotional storm. Shit that didn't matter, like telling them to wash their hands. It was meaningless now.   
She literally couldn't die in childbirth again.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Sam handed Castiel a piece of paper. “Are you sure you want to go through with this, Cas? We humans have a saying: sometimes it is best to leave well enough alone.”  
“I made a promise, and I have failed in it. It's time to fix that mistake,” he replied.  
“Fix what mistake?” Meg asked, entering the library. He was pleased to see that she was wearing the new clothing he had gotten her. The maternity pants and purple t-shirt emphasized the changes to her body and reminded him of why he was doing this.  
“It's...personal. I will be gone for a little while.”  
“Mind my own fucking business, in other words. All right, I can take a hint. Hey, get me some fried pork skins while you're out being all 'personal,' okay?” Meg said.  
Castiel nodded and looking at the address on the piece of paper, flew away.

The house was old and well kept. It sat on a clean, quiet street that reminded Castiel of Jimmy Novak's old neighborhood. He liked it and was glad that it seemed safe.  
He saw the front door open, and an older woman hurried out. “Jimmy? Oh, it is you! You're safe! Amelia! Claire! Jimmy's back!”  
“Ma'am, I'm not—“ he began, taking a step back when she tried to pull him into a hug.  
“Grandma, that's not Dad,” Claire Novak said, stepping onto the front porch. Amelia Novak, Claire's mother, quickly joined her.  
“What? Of course it is,” the older woman protested.  
“I am not Jimmy,” Castiel confirmed. He had not anticipated this situation and was suddenly regretting his decision.  
“I told you about this, Mom,” Amelia said. “Castiel, please, come inside.”  
Castiel hesitantly walked up the porch steps. Claire gave him a glare, and he moved past her into the house.

They went into the living room, and Castiel looked around with interest. It was clean and orderly. The furniture was old but not too worn. On the coffee table was a math textbook and notebook. He realized that without Jimmy's memories, he didn't even know what grade she was in.  
“Do you enjoy math?” he asked Claire, trying to make small talk.  
Claire rolled her eyes. “Nobody enjoys math, idiot. Why are you here? Are we getting my Dad back?”  
“Claire!” Amelia admonished. Claire just sighed and crossed her arms.  
“I'm afraid that is impossible. Jimmy's soul now resides in heaven.”  
Amelia let out a cry and sank onto a chair. The older woman hurried to her and pulled her into a hug.  
“How?” Claire asked.  
“There was a battle a while ago...” he began, but stopped. They didn't need to know about the apocalypse. “It was an archangel. It was quick, I promise. Jimmy did not suffer,” he added, knowing that was an important fact for humans.  
“And yet you're still walking around in what is my Dad's corpse.”  
Castiel shifted uncomfortably. “I was brought back this way. Jimmy agreed to be my vessel indefinitely.”  
“That's sick,” Claire said. “Well great. Thanks for finally getting around to telling us. Bye.”  
“Claire!” Amelia pulled away from her mother, and Castiel saw that her face was red and tear streaked. A stab of guilt went through him.  
“What, Mom? You might want to be nice to this feathered freak, but I don't. He stole Dad and got him killed.” The teenager's voice hitched on the last word. “Why are you here now?”  
“I am keeping my promise to Jimmy. I'm checking on you to make sure you are okay.”  
Amelia stood on shaky legs and wiped her face. “We are. Thank you.”  
Claire scoffed, “You haven't cared in years. Why now?”  
“Circumstances in my life have changed. I am going to be a father and it has made me realize how important family is.”  
“What?” Amelia cried and slapped him. She gasped and took a step back, her hands covering her mouth as she probably realized that physically assaulting an angel was not the smartest action for a human.  
“Going to be a father? W-was that your goal all along? Come down to earth and steal— You really are sick,” Claire shook her head and bolted out of the room and up the staircase in the hall. A moment later he heard a door slam.

Amelia and her mother were looking at Castiel in fear, probably expecting retribution. He tried to school his features into what he hoped was a reassuring expression.  
“I'm sorry. I didn't come here to upset you. I was trying to do the right thing.”  
“I think it's time for you to go,” Amelia's mother said quietly.  
Castiel nodded and headed for the door.  
“Wait,” Amelia said. “Jimmy... Jimmy was gone before... He wasn't involved in making the baby?”  
Castiel nodded. “Long gone.” He would not have started a relationship if Jimmy had still been there. Some beings, especially demons, had no problem with doing what they wished while possessing a vessel. Castiel had always thought that kind of behavior was highly inappropriate and almost a form of rape for the original inhabitants.  
She nodded. “Do...are you capable of loving the woman that you're with? And the baby?”  
“I am. I do,” he replied, confused as to where the conversation was going.  
“Then...” She paused and took a deep breath. “Jimmy gave his life for his family. He made that agreement with you to protect Claire from being your permanent vessel. So you...you need to be like Jimmy. Love and protect your new family with everything that you've got. Honor his memory that way. Understand?”  
“I do.”  
“Please don't come back. I absolve you of all responsibility for us. We'll be fine.”  
Castiel nodded and stepped into the hall. A moment later he was back at the bunker, the weight of regret heavy. He knew that what had happened to the Novaks would always be in the back of his mind, and he would always regret it.

o.O.o

Meg was sitting on her bed watching a movie when someone knocked on her door. She called for them to enter, and Castiel opened the door. He was making an attempt to look all right, but she could tell that something was bothering him.  
“May I join you?” he asked.  
“Yeah, come on. It's a slasher film, though,” she warned him, knowing he hated them.  
“It's fine,” he replied, softly closing the door and joining her on the bed. They were silent for a few minutes. She glanced over and noticed that he was staring blankly at the wall.  
“Clarence?” she asked quietly. She didn't know why she cared that something was bothering him, but she did.  
“I would very much like to hold you, Meg. I don't mean it in a sexual way,” he said, looking at her.  
“Okay,” she replied, shifting so that he could wrap his arms around her. As much as she hated to admit it, it felt good. “Better?”  
“A little.”  
“Maybe this will help.” She took his hand and placed it on the side of her stomach. After a few moments, she felt the sharp kick from inside.  
“That's?”  
“Your spawn,” she answered.  
“That is truly wondrous to feel,” he said, and she could hear the awe in his voice. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”  
“Whatever,” she replied, turning back to the movie.  
He didn't let go of her or move his hand until it was over.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains lines from the episode Goodbye Stranger.

Castiel climbed up onto the bed to sit next to Meg and looked at the television. “What are you watching?”  
“It's called Dr. Sexy, MD. As far as I can tell it's about a bunch of emotionally damaged surgeons sleeping together,” Meg replied, not looking at him. She was laying on her side facing the television.  
“That's...” he trailed off, not wanting to insult her program.  
“Yeah.” She shrugged her shoulder. “I'm that bored.”  
“Perhaps you could assist me then,” he said, leaning over and showing her the book he had brought. It was over 1,000 baby names.  
“No thanks.”  
“Meg, the child will be born soon.” She was now towards the end of her third month, which, going by the baby's growth, Castiel estimated to be the equivalent of the end of the third trimester.  
She looked over her shoulder. “I'm well aware of that fact. I mean, look at me. I'm huge.”  
He noticed her melancholy tone and it confused him. “That is normal.”  
“Nothing about this is normal,” she replied, turning away.  
“Meg, you are very large,” he began. “It is beautiful.”  
“Shut up,” she said and raised the remote control. “I told you, I—“  
He reached over and took it from her hand. “I am not trying to be poetic. I have enjoyed watching the changes to your vessel.”  
She rolled over onto her back. “What?”  
Relieved that she was not dismissing him, or yelling, he continued, “I know that you are not happy about this situation and neither am I. But I find the changes to your vessel remarkable. You have been growing our child, Meg. You're a demon yet you have kept it safe and secure. It is a beautiful thing.”  
She stared at him and he wondered if he should prepare to duck a punch. Instead, she reached up and pulled him down into a kiss. He relaxed and returned it. When it ended, he stayed braced above her and gently pushed her hair out of her face.  
“Do you ever miss the Apocalypse?” she asked.  
“No. Why would I miss the end of times?”  
“I miss its simplicity. I was bad. You were good. Life was easier. Now, it's all so messy. I'm becoming kinda good, which sucks. You're becoming kinda bad, which is all manner of hot.”  
“Really?” he asked, strangely flattered. “Hot?”  
“Mmmhmm.” She kissed him again and gently nipped at his lower lip. It was gentle, not a bite, and he found it sent shivers through his vessel. “After I get the spawn out of me we're gonna move some furniture around.” She kissed his neck. “You understand?”  
“No, I—I...wait. Actually, yes.” He reminded himself that nothing could happen now and moved away from her. She grabbed the remote from him. He took it back and handed her the book. “We still need to do this.”  
“Look, I don't care. Name it what you want. Just none of that biblical or angelic crap. You have free reign. Go crazy.”  
He took the book back, trying to hide his disappointment. Choosing the name for a child was an important event and he had wanted to share it with Meg.  
Especially since he would not get to share any other events with her.

o.O.o

  
“Where's Castiel?” Meg asked, entering the library a few weeks later, her voice tight with tension.  
The Winchesters looked up from their respective tasks. Sam was on his computer, and Dean was reading a magazine.  
“No idea,” Dean said. “He has a phone, you know.”  
“I tried it.”  
Dean shrugged. “Then he's busy.”  
“Could one of you try praying?”  
Dean's eyebrows rose, and the brothers looked at each other. “Uh, what?”  
“I can't pray. You can. Do it,” she said as her abdomen tightened, and a wave of pain flooded her.  
“Meg...” Sam slowly rose and approached her. “Are you in labor?”  
“Nope,” she said, her nails digging deep gouges into the wooden table. “I'm good.”  
“Dean,” Sam said.  
“On it. Oh, Castiel, who is someplace on this planet and needs to get thy angelic ass back here because thou art about to be a father,” Dean said.  
Meg detected a hint of panic in his voice, and she felt a sense of satisfaction that this was freaking him out.  
“Let's get you back to your room, okay?” Sam suggested.  
She nodded as the contraction ended and then took her fingers out of the table. She had left deep holes in the wood.

Sam went with her, not touching her but remaining a constant presence by her side. She hated to admit it, but she was glad for his presence. She both wanted to be alone and dreaded having to go through this alone.  
Once in her room, Sam went to work. He stripped her bedding and placed a plastic sheet and towels down on the mattress before covering it with old looking but clean sheets. His lack of hesitation told her that he and Castiel must have discussed what to do. He left, and she took the opportunity to change into a loose nightgown. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she felt another contraction start, only this time it was joined by heat in her stomach. Looking down, she saw a bluish-gray glow coming from her. Once again, she felt as though her blood were boiling, her insides frying.  
“Please,” she gasped. “Stop.”  
“Meg?” she heard Sam ask when he returned. “Dean!”  
“I know you probably can't hear me but, if you can, I'm not trying to hurt you! I can't stop this from happening. I don't want it any more than you do,” she told the thing currently trying to smite her.  
Shockingly, the glow faded and she no longer felt the heat. She gripped the sheet tightly in her hands, relief mixing with the thought that she could have just let it happen and spared herself the ordeal to come.  
“What the hell was that?” Dean asked from the doorway. He had the demon killing knife in his hand.  
“Labor doesn't just hurt the mothers, you know. The spawn get all squished and everything. That hurts them,” she looked over at them. “Now, what do you think a kid who can protect itself will do in that situation?”  
Understanding dawned on their faces.  
“That's...so wrong,” Dean said. “All of this is wrong. Cas, get back here now!”  
When no trench-coated angel contacted them to lower the wards, Meg tried to ignore the deep sense of betrayal.  
“I need to walk,” she said, standing up. “Walking will help.”

o.O.o

Castiel looked out at the long stretch of ocean in front of him. It was sunset. The sky was a deep orange and pink. A flower scented breeze gently ruffled his coat.  
His cell phone interrupted the peaceful scene. It had been ringing over and over for most of the day. Glancing at the caller identification, he was surprised to see Gabriel's name instead of Dean's.  
“Hello?” he answered.  
“Where are you?” Gabriel demanded.  
“A small island in the southern pacific ocean,” he answered, too confused to think first.  
Gabriel appeared at his side a moment later, and his expression was not pleased.  
“I don't understand. Why—“  
“Why I'm here and not working on finding a solution to your problem? See, I was until a frantic prayer from Dean Winchester invaded my mind.”  
“Dean prayed to you?”  
“Yep. Meg's in labor.”  
“I am aware,” Castiel confessed.  
“Then why are you here?”  
“Because I'm a coward,” he said after a few minutes. “I cannot watch her die because of me.”  
“So you're going to abandon her when she needs you the most.”  
“She does not need me, and hopefully...hopefully it will be quick.”  
He looked back at Gabriel, pain filling him deep inside, expecting to see a sympathetic expression.  
Instead he found a fist flying at his face. A second later it connected with his jaw.  
“Brother?” he asked, confused.  
"You're no brother of mine,” Gabriel said, grabbing his shoulder and teleporting them away.

  
o.O.o

Meg was no stranger to pain. As a human soul condemned to Hell she had become intimate with it. Being tortured and having one's soul literally torn apart every day for decades did that. As a demon she had been born from it; having gotten off the rack by the deal that she would cause pain in other souls. As Alistair's apprentice she had learned the fine art of pain.  
Humans thought that demons couldn't feel the pain of the bodies they inhabited. Wrong.  
It wasn't that they couldn't feel it. It was that pain had become such an old friend that they welcomed it.  
Meg did not welcome this. This was somehow more personal than soul-tearing pain. Her body was forcing another life out of it.

She leaned against the foot of the bed, agony rippling through her body, her energy drained, when something changed. “I need to push,” she exclaimed when the contraction ended.  
Dean, who had been leaning against the doorjamb as though some barrier—or more likely, her temper—prevented him from actually entering the room, sighed. “Finally! Let's get this over with.”  
She couldn't even spare him a thought. The urge was too strong.  
“Meg? Wait!” Sam exclaimed, jumping up from his seat at the desk.  
“Fuck you!” she growled.  
“Listen. I know you don't want me anywhere near your, um, demon lady parts, but you need help now. Cas isn't here. Please let me help you.”  
“I know Cas isn't here.”  
He nodded in sympathy and that made her resolve crumble. She no longer cared about keeping up appearances, or anything really. This wasn;t something she wanted to do alone. She wanted it over.  
“Just get it out,” she said.  
Sam nodded and blew out a breath. He went over to the sink and washed his hands before pulling on a pair of gloves. They really had thought of everything, hadn't they? He returned and tried to help her onto the bed. She shrugged him off.  
“I...this is more comfortable,” she said, uncertain. The midwives had always insisted on her being in bed, reclining, and she didn't want to be reminded of any of those situations.  
“Whatever you want,” he said, grabbing the towels and plastic sheet from the bed and placing them on the floor.  
She got down onto her knees and leaned her forehead against the foot board of the bed.  
“Sammy, you're not really gonna... Yeah, you are. Damn,” Dean said in disgust from the door.  
“Shut him up before I tear out his throat,” she growled.  
“Dean, shut up. Meg, on the next contraction push, okay?” Sam said.  
She nodded. With every contraction she focused all of her energy on pushing. She pushed for what seemed like forever  
“You're doing great,” Sam encouraged. “Head's out! Big pushes now!”  
“That's...” she heard Dean say. His voice wasn't full of contempt or disgust but wonder.  
“There's a towel with instruments in it on the desk. Grab it for me!”  
She gave another few pushes and finally...finally...her body was her own again.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Castiel appeared outside the bunker with Gabriel. Gabriel pulled out his cell phone and sent a text. A few minutes later the wards fell and they entered the bunker.  
A very exhausted looking Sam was at the controls, raising the wards again. He spoke, but Castiel didn't pay him any attention. From far off in the bunker he heard a high pitched crying.

He barely noticed going down the stairs or entering the dormitory. He was entirely focused on finding the source of the noise. It was coming from a room near Meg's. Dean was there, and in his arms was a baby.  
“Cas!” Dean exclaimed, cradling the blanket wrapped bundle. “Where the hell have you been? I've been calling and praying all day.”  
“Dean, is that...?”  
“This? It's your son, whose birth you just missed,” Dean said.  
“May I?” he asked, holding out his arms.  
“You made him,” Dean replied, gently placing the newborn in Castiel's arms. It immediately stopped crying.

Cas stared down at the baby in wonder. It was clean and dressed in a white onesie. A pale yellow hat was on its head, and wisps of dark brown hair showed under it. The baby opened its eyes, and he saw that they were the same shade of blue as his. There was an alertness in them that he was surprised by. He had read that newborns couldn't even focus, yet the baby was looking at him like it knew exactly who he was.

“Hello,” he said and smiled. He shifted the baby in his arms and gently touched a finger to its forehead. He could detect no problems in the baby's body.  
“You helped to deliver him?” Cas asked.  
“No! That was Sam. I did clean the little guy up and feed him though.”  
“Thank you,” he said sincerely.  
“Yeah, well...someone had to do it.”

Sam and Gabriel entered the room. Castiel turned to his older brother. “I...created a son, Gabriel.”  
It felt blasphemous to say it. Angels were not supposed to create. That was the dominion of God and humans. And animals.  
Pretty much anything but angels.  
“I see that. Cute little guy.”  
“He have a name?” Dean asked.  
“I have decided to call him Amil. It means hope.”  
“Meg's—“ Sam began.  
“I know she's dead,” Castiel interrupted, holding his son a little tighter. He felt a sharp ache in his chest.  
“No, Cas, she isn't,” Sam said. “She survived. Probably because she's a demon.”  
Castiel looked at Sam in shock. “She's alive?”  
“In her room resting.”

Castiel carefully pushed past Gabriel and Sam and exited the room. It couldn't be possible. Sam had to be wrong. He went to Meg's door and opened it. She was curled up in the bed but sat up when he entered. He felt such tremendous relief that he almost collapsed. She was there. She was alive.  
She was looking at him with pure rage that quickly changed to a blank expression.  
“Meg, I...” he trailed off and looked down at the baby. “Our son is perfect. Have you held him yet?”  
“No.”  
“Would you like to?” he started to move towards the bed but she shifted back, away from him. He stopped.  
“No. Did you know?”  
He knew what she was asking and nodded. “Gabriel told me when we were at his apartment.”  
She looked away.

Castiel returned to the others and found the room completely changed. Against one wall was was a crib. Across the room from it was a combination changing table and dresser. There was also a rocking chair, carrier, rolling bassinet, and shelves that held toys. The brick and cement walls were now light blue with clouds. When he looked up, he saw that the ceiling had been painted to look like the night sky.

“Where did this come from?”  
“A gift from Uncle Gabriel,” Gabriel said. “I need to spoil so he likes me the best.”  
“Thank you. Would you like to hold him?” Gabriel smiled, and Castiel gently handed the baby to the archangel and trickster.  
“How's Meg?” Sam asked.  
“Not well,” Castiel replied.  
“Yeah, we know. We took him to her after they had both been cleaned up. He needed to be fed. She informed us that she's not a—“ Dean looked at the baby. “—f-ing cow and kicked us out. Sam made an emergency run for milk and bottles.”  
“Thank you, both. And for making sure that my son was safely delivered. I will never be able to repay the debt.”  
“Cas, there's no debt. But, what happened?”  
Castiel sat down in the rocking chair. “When I found out about Nephilim, I also found out that no mother had ever survived the birth.”  
“So all this time you've been thinking that Meg was going to die? Did she know?”  
Castiel shook his head. “I never told her.”  
“Not cool, little bro,” Gabriel said. Castiel saw that Amil was sound asleep.  
“I know that I should have told her.”  
“And us,” Dean added.  
“I did not like to think about it, yet it was all I could think about. I'm sorry.”  
“Yeah, well, the Winchesters specialize in keeping important information from each other. This just shows you fit in.”  
Gabriel carefully handed Amil back to Castiel. Surprisingly, the baby stayed asleep. The Winchesters admired the baby for a moment before heading off to get some much needed sleep.  
“Cassie?” Gabriel started once they were alone. “I found out that Nephilim are always stronger than their parents. They've destroyed whole worlds in the past. That's part of why they're forbidden.”  
Castiel looked down at his sleeping son. “I don't care.”

o.O.o

When Castiel had come to her room the day of the birth, Meg had wanted to hurt him. She imagined herself leaping up from the bed and punching, kicking, biting. Maiming. Flaying him over and over for a few centuries. Making him hurt as much as he had hurt her.  
She had been too exhausted, though. Drained physically and mentally by having been in labor for almost a whole day and then giving birth.  
So she had...well, not forgiven him because that was never going to happen. She had locked all the betrayal and pain away in her mind and decided to go on like it had never happened.  
But she would never forget.

Over the next few days Meg healed herself. The slow pace made her miss the days of having a witch or two on hand to speed up the process.  During the time she stayed in her room.  No longer needing to eat made it a lot easier. Finally, she new she would have to face Castiel and the spawn.

  
A few doors down from hers, she heard someone quietly speaking. She looked in the room and saw Castiel talking to a baby. Except it wasn't her baby. It couldn't be. It seemed bigger.  
“That didn't come from me,” she said.  
Castiel looked at her and frowned. “This is our child, Meg.”  
“But he's so big.”  
“Yes. He seems to be growing at an increased pace, much like his gestation, though not as fast.”  
“Oh.”  
The baby looked towards her and reached out a hand. Castiel smiled. “He recognizes you.”  
She snorted. “I should hope so considering he lived in me for three months.”  
The baby kept reaching for her and let out a string of babble.  
“He wants you.”  
“I don't care what it wants,” she replied, leaving and desperately trying to ignore the ache in her chest.

Castiel kept trying to force the baby—Amil, as he informed her one day—on her. She kept resisting. At first she straight out told him to stop. He then took a quieter approach, appearing with the damn thing every time she left her room. Gabriel had replaced one of the library tables with a big screen TV, sofa, and chairs. She liked to spend time out there, but Castiel kept joining her. He had stopped asking if she wanted to hold the spawn , but the thing's mere presence near her made her feel...off. Especially since the damn thing seemed to want to be with her. Every time it saw her it would reach out to her, happily babbling.

Finally she decided maybe Castiel needed a distraction. A fun distraction to take his mind off the baby. And hey, if it was mutually fun then maybe it would distract her from...well, everything.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” she asked him. They were in the kitchen, and he was preparing a bottle.  
“Of course.”  
“Away from the spawn,” she said, pulling him to the other side of the kitchen. “This isn't for baby ears.”  
“I doubt he understands what we're saying.”  
She remembered the delivery. “Don't count on that. Anyway, I'm no longer pregnant.”  
“I am aware,” he replied, obviously confused.  
“I'm also fully healed. So, I was thinking that we could...”  
Castiel's eyes widened when he understood. “Oh. You wish to be intimate.”  
She leaned in and kissed him right below his ear. “Very much so.”  
He placed his hands on her waist. “I would like that.”  
She kissed him, deeply, until a clearing throat drew their attention. Sam was in the doorway looking amused.  
“Sorry,” Sam said, though he didn't sound sorry.  
“Tonight,” she said and, with a seductive smile, left the kitchen.  
She was sure that Castiel would chicken out, but that night he quietly knocked on her door.

“Why do you keep avoiding Amil?” Castiel asked into her shoulder.  
She sighed and opened her eyes. “Really? You want to get into this now? You're ruining my buzz.”  
“Meg.”  
She felt him sit up, and she rolled over onto her back. “You are such a girl sometimes, Castiel. You really wanna talk about our feelings? Can't we just enjoy the fun we just had?”  
“It is impossible for me to be a girl since as an angel I have no sex, and my vessel is male. If you are attempting to distract me by insulting me it will not work.”  
Meg rolled her eyes at his literalness. He wasn't going to give up, that was obvious. So she had to give him something. “Fine. You wanna talk, let's talk. Why do you keep trying to force me? Why can't you respect what I want? I didn't get a choice about the pregnancy and now apparently you want to take away my choice about motherhood.” She snorted. “But then that's always a problem with you cloud-hoppers, isn't it? Everything has to be done your way.”  
“And the problem with you demons is that you always lash out when there is a topic that you do not wish to address. It will not work, Meg.”

Feeling cornered, Meg threw off the blankets and climbed out of the bed. Pulling on a robe, she roughly tied the belt and then crossed her arms.  
“I deserve to know why, Meg.”  
She didn't have to tell him. She didn't want to tell him. Clenching her teeth, she just stared at him. He stared back, with that piercing, unnerving gaze of his.  
“You really need to drop it, Castiel. I will not...ever...have anything to do with that angel spawn. Not after what he did to me.”  
Castiel frowned. “Amil is a baby. He cannot do anything. Are you referring to when he attacked you for trying to abort him? I do not think he realized that you were his mother. He just knew something was trying to kill him. He loves you, Meg.”  
She shook her head. “No, he doesn't, and that's not what I mean. He changed me.”  
“Motherhood—“  
“Damn it, Castiel, that is not what I meant! I know all too well how motherhood changes people. I'm talking about me. Deep inside. He did something to me, I don't know what, but...I...he...” She broke off and looked away. She had already revealed too much. She couldn't talk about this. It was too deep, too intimate. Even thinking about it made her feel more raw and exposed than when she was in her smoke form.

He got out of the bed and walked up to her. Reluctantly, she looked up at him. For the first time the near foot difference in their heights made her feel vulnerable and she wanted to lash out at him.  
“What do you think he did to you?”  
“He did something to my...my demonness. What was once my soul. I'm feeling and caring. I shouldn't! Those abilities were beaten and raped and cut and burned and torn out of me long ago.” She closed her mouth, not having meant to give him a glimpse into her hell. “Any trace of humanity was long gone until he...I don't know, but I feel it!”  
His gaze grew narrower and she knew that he was seeing her true self. “I can see no difference. You're still a demon, Meg.”  
“Except that I'm not! Not really, not anymore,” she pushed away from him. “You know, not even a year ago I would have killed you for making me talk.”  
“You mean tried to.”  
She gave a small smirk. “You keep telling yourself that, tree topper.” Quickly, she sobered.  “I would have slaughtered Dean long ago. Sam too, just for fun. Now? The thought makes me sick. Except Dean. He's an ass.”  
“You think this is a bad thing?”  
“It is!”  
“Meg, maybe this is just you changing. Angels cannot heal demons. Not like that. It's just not possible for Amil to have—“ He broke off and got a thoughtful look on his face. “Unless having his grace so close to your true self for three months somehow...tainted you.”  
“How do we fix it?”  
“I'm not even sure that's what happened, much less how to reverse it. I think your only alternatives are to come to terms with the change, or return to Hell and let them torture you back to your former self.”  
“Never,” Meg said firmly. “I will never go back there.” She had gotten off the rack. Nothing could get her back on.  
Castiel shrugged. “Then you have to accept your new self.”  
Meg didn't bother to respond. It was obvious that he didn't really understand or care about what had happened to her. She was on her own for figuring out a way to find her old self. Grabbing her towel and a change of clothes, she stormed out of the room.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Meg removed the earplugs and sighed when only silence met her hearing. The spawn had been up all night crying. Nothing Castiel, Gabriel, or the brothers could do would calm the baby. Meg had stayed in her room, finally putting the ear plugs in in an attempt to keep from mauling somebody.

Heading into the library she saw Dean and Gabriel crowded around the television. Sam was seated at a table with a thick book in front of him and his laptop open. Meg joined the ones at the television.  
Castiel came out of the kitchen, Amil in his arms and a bottle in his hand. He saw Meg and his expression immediately grew stormy.  
“What?” Meg asked, confused as to what she had done wrong.  
“Here,” he said, thrusting the bottle at her. She took it, confused, and he started to hand the baby to her. She jumped up from the chair and out of his reach.  
“Whoa, no.”  
“Meg, take your son.”  
Amil saw her and began to babble happily and reach towards her. She took a step back.  
“No, Castiel. We've talked about this.” A month had passed since she had confessed to Castiel about her fears that Amil had changed her. He had seemed to, if not accept it, respect her decision. She didn't understand why he was suddenly acting as if he didn't understand where she was coming from.  
“I don't care,” he replied, his voice harsh and raised.  
Amil started at the sound of Castiel's voice and suddenly began to cry. Dean got up from the sofa and reached for the baby. Castiel turned away from his friend's grasp.  
“No, let Meg.”  
“He doesn't need to see you fighting,” Dean said and took the infant. He disappeared into the kitchen.  
Castiel frowned after them and turned back to Meg. She had never seem him so angry.  
“I told you how I feel and—“ she began.  
“Get over it,” Castiel interrupted.  
Meg glanced at Gabriel, who had put his feet up on the coffee table and was watching the arguement as though it were a TV show. He even now had a bowl of popcorn.  
“Excuse me?” Meg asked.  
“You heard what I said. You need to move past this. You're a mother, Meg. You need to stop being selfish—“  
“Hi. Demon here . Selfishness—“  
“And you need to stop using your being a demon as an excuse for everything! I'm an angel and I've had to do things angels don't normally do. This whole situation is something angels don't normally do!”  
“A situation I never asked for! I never wanted to be pregnant, Cas, and I don't want a baby. Especially not one who—“  
“I didn't either! I never wanted to be a father but now I am. I've had to accept that fact and you need to accept—“  
“I don't have to accept a single fucking thing.”  
He closed his mouth and his eyes grew cold. “Then you can leave.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Whoa. Let's just take a breath before we say or do something we regret,” Sam interrupted, stepping into the living room.  
“Stay out of this Sam,” Castiel growled.  
“Sam's right, little bro,” Gabriel added, sitting forward.  
“I'm not little, and you stay out of this, too,” Castiel said to the archangel before turning back to Meg. “I mean it. I'll not have you here confusing or hurting Amil anymore. I'll not have you around while I'm essentially being a single parent. I'm done with that, Meg. It's not fair or right. So you can either be a mother or leave.”

Meg felt a sharp ache in her chest. He was choosing that spawn over her. Of course, what did she expect? He was an angel. Angels thought demons were filth. Abominations. Oh, he had made her think that he felt differently, but that had obviously been a trick.  
She had thought that she had been playing him at first, leading him on to get his protection. Turned out he had been leading her on in a worse way.  
He had made her believe that he saw her differently. That he truly saw who she was. He had made her lower her guards and trust him.  
He had made her—  
“I'm from there, so you can understand that I know everything it is. So you believe I mean it with everything that I am when I say: go to Hell, Castiel.”  
She stormed into the front entry and turned off the wards. Without a backwards glance, she rushed up the stairs and out of the bunker.

o.O.o

Castiel watched Meg go with a strange numbness filling him. He wasn't sure what to do now.  
“You're right. You're not little,” Gabriel said, slowly getting up from his chair. “You're a giant ass.”  
“Gabriel,” he growled.  
“You need to go after her, Cas,” Sam said.  
“No. She made her choice.”  
“Choice? There was no choice there,” Gabriel scoffed.  
“Did you not hear—“  
“Oh, I heard everything, little bro,” Gabriel said, emphasizing the nickname. “In what world is it ever a good idea to give a demon an ultimatum?”  
“She needed to—“  
“To what? Completely change everything that she is to suit your idea of what a family is? To suit your timetable?”  
Gabriel's words caused an uncomfortable feeling to form in his chest. “I don't have to listen to this.”  
He started to leave and felt archangel grace gathering.  
“Oh, you're going to listen, Castiel.” Gabriel said.  
Castiel turned and saw Gabriel's eyes glowing and his wings projected. A part of him cowered under his older brother's anger.  
“I didn't help you and make myself an enemy of Heaven so you can throw it all away because of stubbornness and stupidity.”  
“I'm not—“  
“Shut up!” Gabriel demanded.  
Castiel glanced at Sam. The hunter was watching the proceedings with calm interest.  
“You knew what you were getting into when you took up with a demon. A demon, Castiel. Did you really think that this whole shitstorm of events would change who she really was? That she'd turn into June Cleaver?” Gabriel continued.  
“I don't understand that reference,” he muttered.  
“A perfect mother with a white apron and homemade cookies,” Gabriel replied, exasperation in his words.  
“No.”  
“Then what?”  
“I just wanted her to—“ He wiped his forehead, feeling exhausted and drained, “—be his mother.”  
“Maybe she would have if you'd given her more time,” Sam said quietly.  
“She's had time. The pregnancy was three months. Amil is two months old. That's five months to get used to the idea that this is reality now. How much time does she need?”  
“We'll never know, now, will we? Because you spoke out of your ass instead of your mouth,” Gabriel said. Castiel opened his mouth to reply, confused, and Gabriel held up his hand. “Don't.”  
“You need to fix this, Cas,” Sam said quietly.  
“How?”  
Sam sighed and pushed his hair back from his face. “I'll go find her and bring her back.”  
“I should be the one to—“  
“You can't. You have a child.”  
“I cannot let you put yourself in danger for me.”  
“I'm not doing it for you,” Sam said. “I'm doing it for Amil. I know what it's like to lose your mother so young you cannot even remember her. He shouldn't have to go through that. So I'll go out and get Meg back. You just make sure you apologize when we get here.”  
“Flowers. Candy. Groveling. Great sex,” Gabriel said firmly.

 

Sam left within the half hour. Dean was not pleased to find out that his little brother had gone off to search for Meg, furthermore without Dean. When he found out Sam had taken the Impala he looked ready to murder someone. Gabriel had simply placed Amil back in Dean's arms, saying no human could remain angry while holding a baby.  
It worked.  
Oh, Dean was still angry, but he had simply walked away muttering about supernatural beings and domestic squabbles.  
Later that night, he let Castiel know in no uncertain terms that if Sam ended up injured because of this, he would put an angel blade through Castiel's heart.  
Castiel believed him.

Sam returned three days later, uninjured and without Meg. He had searched, but could not find even a trace of her. It was not surprising. Meg had lived for hundreds of years, and she could hide if she wanted to.

That night Castiel sat quietly in the nursery long after putting Amil down for the night. He stared at the baby and felt a deep sense of shame. Because of him and his misplaced sense of right and wrong, Amil would grow up motherless.  
He had never wanted to change Meg. Not really. Oh, he had a tiny sense of hope after she told him she she felt changes because of what she thought was Amil. But other than that, he liked her being a demon.  
No, what he had wanted was for her to do the right thing. Every time he had seen Amil look at Meg hopefully, call out to her...only for Meg to ignore or reject the baby...it broke his heart. It was wrong.  
His actions had been a combination of exhaustion and that fierce protectiveness that Amil caused. He had no longer wanted to see his son hurting.  
Yes, the right thing would have been to give Meg more time. Continue to go slowly. Let the instincts that he knew she was burying fight to the surface.  
He vowed that if she would just come back, he would make things right.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Castiel carried the freshly prepared bottle through the corridors towards the nursery. He was surprised that Amil was not crying. This was the time the baby usually had his morning bottle.  
As Castiel approached the nursery door, he heard a voice coming from inside.  
“And then I slew the evil vampires and saved the Fair Maiden Stacey. Okay, Sir Sammy might have helped a little. Anyway, with the vampires gone, she and I lived Happily Ever After for a whole weekend,” he heard Dean say.  
Looking into the room, he saw Dean at the changing table, fastening a diaper onto Amil.

The Winchesters had stepped right in to help Castiel care for Amil. When they were not off on a hunt, they fed, changed diapers, bathed, played with, and did laundry, all without a single complaint. Cas wasn't sure if it were because they truly wanted to help, or if it was out of pity, but he was grateful.

“There you go. All clean.” Dean opened the dresser under the changing table and pulled out an outfit. “We have got to get you some new clothes, little guy. Maybe something in flannel? Anything but these animals.”  
Amil laughed and vigorously kicked his legs.  
“What, you like the animals? Really?” Dean began to dress the baby. “One day you will develop good taste. I will help you with that. First lesson: cutsey animals are a no.” He finished and held the baby up. “Although, it might be beneficial for picking up chicks. We'll have to test that.”  
“You will not use my son to gain women,” Castiel said, entering the room.  
Dean started. “Cas, man, we've talked about this. Get a frikkin bell or something.”  
Castiel ignored him and took his son from Dean. He settled down in the chair and gave the baby the bottle. It was his favourite thing to do. He had read that feeding time was a bonding event. While he had thought that was only for mothers and breastfeeding, that notion was quickly proven wrong. He felt a deep connection to his son when giving the baby nourishment.

“Hey, Cas?” Sam said. He entered the room and looked at Dean. “We have something for you.”  
Castiel took the small box that Sam was holding out and passed the baby and bottle to Sam so he could open it. Inside was a small metal pendant with writing etched into it. It was Enochian, and he recognized it as the same sigils as his tattoo. The pendant had been padded with cloth around the edges, and a blue ribbon laced through a hole in the top.  
“Thank you, but I don't understand,” he said, pulling it out of the box and holding it up.  
“It's for Amil,” Sam explained. “I got the idea from your tattoo. I mean, he's too little to tattoo, of course, so maybe if he wore that it would suppress his grace enough that he could go outside.”  
“That's...an interesting idea,” he said slowly.  
He reached for his son. Amil fussed for a moment at having his meal interrupted, but settled down. He gently placed the pendant on Amil and tied the ribbon, making sure that it would untie if pulled on instead of risk injury. He slipped it inside Amil's shirt, and the moment the metal touched Amil's skin he no longer felt the baby's grace signature.  
He didn't like it.

“It works,” he said, taking the pendant off and placing it back in the box.  
“That's great!” Dean exclaimed. “Cas, this means you both can leave the bunker.”  
“You want us to leave?” Cas asked, trying to keep the sadness at the thought out of his voice. Of course they would. This was their home, and he was just a guest taking refuge after all. It was never meant to be permanent.  
“What? You think... Cas, no! Look, man, you're family. This is your home too. Always,” Dean said firmly. “The little guy too.”  
Sam nodded in agreement.  
“I...thank you,” Cas said. “Then why this?”  
“Your kid needs to go outside. He needs to be able to see the sun. Play in the grass. He's been cooped up in here for four months. It's not healthy,” Dean said.  
“I monitor his health and he is not ill,” Cas countered. The idea of his son being out in the open scared him more than anything ever had before.  
“That's not the point,” Sam said gently. “It's not fair to him to keep him here. We're going into town today. Come with us.”  
Cas nodded and reluctantly placed the pendant back on Amil.

The Winchesters dropped Cas off at a park while they went about their errands. Cas secured Amil in the front carrier pack and went in search of a place to settle. In one hand he had the diaper bag and in the other a blanket.  
He found a spot under a tree and spread out the blanket. Sitting down, he took Amil out of the carrier and laid the baby down. Amil blinked at the sunlight and looked around, his eyes wide.  
“That is the sun,” Cas said quietly, placing a pacifier in Amil's mouth. “Isn't it warm?” A breeze gently blew over them and Amil reached out, his hand grasping. “That's the wind. It's nice now, but wait until your wings fully form. There is nothing like gliding through the air, your wings stretched as far as they can be.” He smiled at the memories and squinted. He could see that Amil had two tiny, immaterial wings. They were little more than fluffy bunches of feathers. One day they would molt and he would gain his full feathers. Then Cas would teach his son how to materialize them onto this place of existence. He looked forward to it.

“What an adorable baby,” a female voice said, pulling Castiel out of his thoughts. He looked over and saw a woman settling a blanket down near him. She took a baby who looked  few months older than Amil out of a carrier.  
“Thank you. His name is Amil.”  
“Amil. That's interesting. This is Rebecca. Say 'hi' Becca.”  
Rebecca babbled something.  
Amil looked over and grinned, his pacifier falling out of his mouth. Castiel picked him up and settled him in a seated position facing Rebecca. Amil excitedly babbled and waved his arms up and down.  
The woman laughed. “I'm Jean.”  
“I am Castiel.”  
“He looks like you.”  
Castiel struggled to smile. While Amil had his eyes, the baby was looking more and more like Meg every day. It almost hurt to see.

He visited with Jean and watched the babies interact until he felt a slight awareness at the edge of his senses. He paused and concentrated and felt it again. Looking down at Amil, he saw that the baby had stopped playing and was holding very still, a confused look on his face. Amil looked up at Castiel, and Cas knew he felt it too.  
“I'm afraid I must go,” Castiel said, beginning to pack up Amil's things. Jean looked startled but understanding. Placing Amil in the carrier pack, he said a polite goodbye to his new friend.

Castiel moved through the streets of Lebanon, following his senses. It was getting stronger, yet at the same time moving away from him.  
Clouds moved in and a light rain began to fall. Using his hands to shield Amil, he paused under a store awning and took off the carrier and his coat. The carried had been fine strapped over his coat before, but now he put the carrier back on and his coat over it, folding Amil protectively in the material. The baby didn't protest and settled contently against his chest. Cas's phone began to ring, and he saw that it was Dean. He didn't answer. This was too important.

He ended up in an abandoned warehouse. Dropping the blanket and diaper bag, he allowed his angel blade to fall into his hand. Carefully, he entered the building and found what—or rather, who—he had been following.  
“Meg?”

o.O.o

Meg heard Castiel's voice and turned around. She had hoped to lose him. She should have known it was impossible. Even if he didn't know it was her, there was no way he would allow a demon to stay in Lebanon.  
“You came back?” he asked, the hope in his tone blatant. He looked pathetic; soaked by the rain and clutching his coat closed. He took a few steps towards her. She took a few steps back, and he frowned.  
“No,” she said and turned to leave. She heard him start to follow, ordering her to stop, and in response she spun around, channeling all of her power into slamming him back against the far wall.  
“Meg, stop,” he cried. She was going to ignore him and attack again, but his next words stopped her. “The baby!”  
She realized then why he had been holding his coat closed. Releasing him, she watched with growing horror as he opened his coat. He was wearing some kind of pack and she could see tiny legs and arms sticking out of it.  
“I...I didn't...” she shook her head and the fight went out of her.  
She couldn't stand the spawn, but she would never hurt it.  
Which was part of her problem.  
Castiel lifted the now fussy baby out of the pack. “I protected him. He's not hurt.”  
She nodded. “Fine.”  
“Meg, why are you here?”

After leaving the bunker, she had felt like a weight had been lifted. She had been free to return to who she truly was. No angel or spawn to hold her back.  
Yet, it hadn't been the same. Instead of making her feel better, being drenched in the blood of her enemies, feeling their viscera crunching under her shoes, it had made her feel...hell, she didn't even have the vocabulary to say how it made her feel except for wrong.  
One month after leaving, she had caught wind of demonic gossip about a baby. Apparently Crowley was desperate to get his hands on it. It could only be the spawn, so she had followed the gossip, hoping to find out who knew what and how close they were to the truth. As she killed the recent demon she had been interrogating for information, she felt a sense of...longing, for lack of a better word. It had been slowly building the longer she had been away. So she gave in and came to Lebanon.  
She had hoped that just being in the same city would be enough. She hadn't expected to see Castiel out with the baby.

“Why do you care?” she asked, crossing her arms. “You wanted me gone.”  
He cuddled the baby close and looked away. “I made a mistake.”  
She scoffed. “A mistake?”  
“Many mistakes. I should have told you everything when I found out.”  
She nodded. “Why weren't you at the birth?”  
“Because I was certain that it would kill you. I could not stand the thought that... I told you, Meg, that I love you. I could not be around when you died, knowing that I'm the one that killed you. It hurt too much.”  
“And demons are the ones thought of as selfish.” She walked up to him, her rage building. “So you let me suffer...birthing your child...alone...because it hurt?”  
“You had the Winchesters.”  
“Not the point!” she yelled, all of her repressed betrayal and pain finally being released. “It should have been you!”  
“I know. And I'm sorry.”  
She stared up at him, preparing to tell him to shove his apology, when she felt a small pat on her chest. She looked down to see the spawn staring at her.  
“Ma!” the baby said.  
She backed away. “He's talking? He's too young to be. Right?”  
“Yes, but he is a little more advanced than a human baby. This is the first time he's said anything though,” Cas replied, the awe evident in his voice.  
“The first time?”  
“And he wants you, Meg.”  
She shook her head but watched as the baby squirmed and looked towards her.  
“Ma,” he said again, reaching for her.  
The word pierced right into her, combining with that strange sense of longing to form a powerful ache.  
“Do you want to hold him?” Castiel asked quietly.  
No, she didn't want to. She wanted to run away.  
But she needed to.  
She held out her arms, and Castiel carefully transferred the baby to her. He was heavier than she expected, but settled into her arms like he belonged there. She lowered her head and breathed in. He smelled of formula and baby powder. Diaper cream and something that was just him. A combination of sulfur and ozone. Fire and rain. It spoke to that ache and one word popped into her brain.  
Mine.  
It frightened Meg more than anything had, either in her human life or her demon life. It made her want to toss the infant to Castiel and run, far, far away.  
Amil raised a tiny hand and rested it lightly against her chest. Meg gently took his hand and looked at the tiny fingers with perfect nails. She ran her hand over his hair, surprised that something so soft could exist in the world.  
“My Ma,” Amil said happily, tapping her chest.  
“My son,” she whispered.  
Looking up, she braced herself for some angelic gloating, but it wasn't there. Instead she saw a look of deep compassion.  
She didn't know whether to hate or thank her angelic baby daddy.


	15. Chapter 15

The only sounds in the warehouse were the rain on the metal roof and Amil's contented coos. Castiel watched Meg with their son. She held the baby and swayed, seemingly well practiced with how to hold an infant. He hated to interrupt.  
“Will you come home now?” he asked quietly.  
She looked at him and he could tell that he was not forgiven for all his transgressions. “Do you want me back for you or for him?”  
He understood what she was asking. “I want you back because it was wrong of me to have made you go in the first place. I should not have tried to force you. Free will is...it is new to me. I have not learned everything. What I mean is, if you come back, you can have as much or as little interaction with Amil as you would like.”  
She looked down at the baby in her arms. “Fine. But I'm stating right now I'm not changing any dirty diapers. Ever.”  
He allowed the hint of a smile on his face. “That is fine. The Winchesters and I can handle any diapers.”  
Castiel sent a quick text to Dean letting them know they would meet them back at the bunker. Grabbing the diaper bag and now soaked blanket, he offered to teleport them. Meg declined, choosing to do so herself.

They waited in silence for the Winchesters. Amil had fallen asleep in Meg's arms. She seemed slightly confused by that, but didn't ask him to take the baby. He wasn't going to offer either.  
“I have handled this entire situation poorly,” he said.  
“Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious.”   
He frowned, not understanding her reference, but knowing that right now there was nothing he could say to make the situation better.

The Impala pulled up and Sam and Dean got out. Sam looked surprised but pleased to see Meg. Dean, however, was scowling when he saw her. The eldest Winchester didn't say anything when he unlocked the door to the bunker.

Once inside, Meg took off towards the dormitory. Castiel wanted to follow, but Dean was staring at him. He felt slightly irritated, since the eldest hunter's expression was demanding an explanation. A part of him felt he did not owe anybody one.  
“I encountered her in town and convinced her to come back,” he said.  
Dean nodded and crossed his arms. “Really? Just like that?”  
“Yes,” he replied. Neither Dean or Sam needed to know the personal details.  
“That's great, Cas,” Sam said. “I'll bet Amil is happy.”  
“He is.” Cas smiled. “He said his first word. 'Ma'.”  
“Yeah, that's great. Real, frikkin great,” Dean said and strode off to to the kitchen.

Castiel knew that Meg was in the nursery with Amil. He wanted to join them, but he knew that Meg needed time. She was willingly with their child, and he was not about to risk chasing her away again. However, when evening came, he needed to.

“Meg?” he said as he hesitantly entered the nursery. She was seated cross legged on the floor with Amil in front of her on a blanket.  
“Yeah?”  
“We have been working to get Amil on a schedule.”  
“Okay.” He reached down for the baby but she stopped him. “What's the schedule?”  
“Now it's time for his evening bath. Then he will have a bedtime bottle before settling down to sleep.”  
“Fine.” She picked the baby up and stood. “Show me.”  
He was surprised but led her down the hall to the bathroom. There, he explained the baby bath basin, the proper temperature for the water, and the baby soaps. She waved her hand dismissively and turned on the water.

Castiel went into the kitchen to prepare a bottle. Sam was there with his laptop and a few slices of pizza.  
“Isn't this bath time?” Sam asked.  
“Yes. Meg is doing it,” he replied, taking a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.  
“Oh. She's really jumping in to this now.”  
He measured the formula. “I don't think she is 'jumping in.' She is willing to do a few things, and I won't argue. She says she refuses to change dirty diapers though.”  
Sam smiled. “That's fine. Can't say I blame her.”  
“Thank you for being accepting,” he said, shaking the bottle to mix it and then running it under water to warm it.  
“Of course. She's part of your family.”

Castiel placed the bottle in the nursery and checked on Meg. He could hear her talking to Amil. Everything seemed fine, so he didn't interrupt.  
“She's bathing him now?” Dean asked, walking up to him.  
“Yes. It's bath time.”  
“Is that a good idea?”  
“I don't understand.”  
“She left him, Cas. How do you know she didn't come back to finish the job?”  
“Dean, what are you talking about?”  
“First she doesn't want anything to do with him, leaves, and now she suddenly comes back and wants to be mom? Demons and babies don't exactly mix. How do you know she's not going to drown him and leave again?”  
Castiel was horrified that Dean would even think of it. Yes, demons had harmed children since the creation of demons. Yet, he had seen the horror on her face when she thought she had hurt Amil. She was no threat.  
He was about to reassure his friend when Meg stormed out of the bathroom, clutching Amil in a towel, and pushed past them. Judging by the look on her face, she had heard the whole thing.

o.O.o

Meg gently lowered the baby into the plastic bath basin. It was partially filled with warm water. She made sure to keep one hand securely cradling him, while the other ran a soft, soapy cloth over his skin.  
“You smell like flowers,” she said, referring to the lavender scented baby soap. According to the bottle, it was supposed to relax the baby for bedtime. A fair trade off, she thought.  
Amil laughed and kicked, splashing water all down her front.  
“Thanks. If you thought I needed a bath, too, you could have just said so.”  
She finished with the cloth and poured some baby shampoo—vanilla scented—into his hair. It was brown and starting to get the same waves as hers.  
He laughed when some suds landed on his nose. She couldn't help but smile.  
After rinsing him off, she wrapped him in a fluffy towel. Outside the bathroom, she heard Cas and Dean arguing. When Dean asked if Cas could trust her not to drown the baby, she clutched her clean, happy son to her chest and marched out.   
Shoving past the men, she grabbed a diaper and a bottle from the nursery. Cas was calling her, but she ignored him. Entering her room, she closed and locked the door. Sure, he could just teleport in, but hopefully he would get the hint.

She put the clean diaper on Amil and tossed the damp towel on the floor. Having not grabbed any baby clothes, she dressed him in one of her t-shirts, tying the bottom in a knot.  
After changing her soaked shirt, she stretched out next to him and gave him the bottle. He eagerly began to drink.  
“Don't listen,” she said after a few minutes. He was watching her intently as he fed. “I would never hurt you. I can't. By all rights I should. I'm a demon. But you're mine.”  
He gurgled happily and dribbled milk down his chin.  
“You're also gross.”  
Meg finished feeding him, burped him, and then settled down. She held him close, and he made content baby sounds. He reached over and patted her cheek and she smiled bitterly.  
“Why do you like me so much? I'm not a good person. Don't you know that?”  
She closed her eyes and once again breathed in his unique scent.  
“But maybe...”  
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a stuffed animal. It was a unicorn, barely the size of her hand. She had grabbed it on impulse a week earlier without knowing why. He laughed when she waved it at him before tucking it next to him.

A few hours later, sound of wings and the feel of grace alerted her that Castiel had arrived.  
“He's asleep. I didn't smother him,” she said.  
“I know,” Cas replied. He moved to the other side of the bed and leaned over, gently running his hand over Amil’s hair. “You did well this evening with him.”  
“Gee...thanks…”  
“I did not mean...” He closed his mouth and looked away. “What can I do, Meg, to fix this?”  
She sat up and stared at him. “How far would you go?”  
“I…”  
“If you really want to fix it. If you really want to make things right with me, you'll get us out. Find a safe place for us to go. Hell, make one. Just get me out of Dean Winchester's home. Because I promise, he makes another comment about me killing my son, or gives me another suspicious look…” She broke off and made her eyes go Black. “My response won't be pretty.”  
She looked down and saw that Amil had woke and was watching her. She expected him to burst into tears at seeing part of her true form. Instead, he looked at her with what could only be described as awe and he reached up. She lowered her head and he patted her cheek.  
“My Ma,” he murmured, his eyes drifting shut again.  
She barely noticed Cas leave.


	16. Chapter 16

Castiel positioned the rocking chair in front of the window and looked around the nursery. All of the furniture was in place, and all the toys and clothes were put neatly away. Amil watched from his crib, thumb firmly planted in his mouth. Castiel walked over and replaced it with a pacifier.  
“This is your home now. What do you think?”

It had been a week since Meg had demanded a new place to live. While Castiel did not like leaving the Winchesters, he knew that he needed to honor the wishes of the mother of his child. With Sam’s assistance he had found an abandoned house in Washington State that was not in too bad of a condition. A few repairs and a lot of warding, and it was livable.  
Meg had been surprised and pleased, although a little hesitant at moving in with him. She agreed to the move, but let him know that it did not mean that they were a couple again. He reassured her that nothing had changed. He was holding her to no obligations and never would.

Amil looked at him and smiled. The pacifier fell out of his mouth. “Da!”  
Cas froze. “What?”  
Amil looked unsure. “Da?”  
Cas picked his son up and held him close, happiness and love overwhelming him. “Yes. I'm your Da. And I love you more than anything.”  
Amil cooed happily and patted Cas’ cheek.

Castiel went to the master bedroom doorway, where Meg was. She was setting up her things, which didn't really work since she had no furniture. They hadn't taken anything from the bunker that they hadn't bought or Gabriel hadn't given them.  
“Meg! He said Da! He knows me!” Castiel told her excitedly.  
“Okay.” She looked up. “This isn't going to work.”  
Then she teleported away.  
Castiel stood frozen, stunned. He waited a few minutes, but she didn't return. Trying to ignore the hurt, he looked at Amil.  
“She'll be back. I know she will.”

Meg didn't return that night or the next morning. To distract himself, Cas took Amil to the grocery store. He walked through each aisle even though he only needed the baby section. In the snack foods, he bought a box of microwave popcorn.  
Amil was four months now, and he had read that it was the proper age to begin introducing solid foods. He got some baby cereal and examined the wide variety of mashed foods.  
“What would you like? Apples? Peas?” he asked Amil, who was in his carrier pack.  
Amil just blinked at him and yawned.  
“I wish I could advise you, but I never had this stuff. A benefit of being created fully formed and non-corporeal.”  
He selected carrots and strawberries, hoping the baby would like them. After grabbing a few bibs and utensils, and of course the always needed diapers, he went to pay for his items.

At the house he was surprised to find a moving van parked out front. Readying his angel blade, he cautiously entered the house.  
“There you are!” Meg said the moment he set foot inside. She was leaning against the kitchen counter with a glass of alcohol in her hand.  
“You came back,” he replied.  
“Yeah, of course I did. You didn't think I would?”  
“I had doubts,” he admitted.  
She crossed her arms and looked away. “Well, what do you think?”  
He was confused until he looked around. The room was fully decorated. They had left the TV and living room furniture for the Winchesters as a thank you. It seemed Meg had replaced them. There was a chair and sofa in dark blue. The television was larger than Gabriel’s, and there was a DVD player attached. On the wood floors was a large area rug in dark blues and greens. There was a small wood table and chairs in the kitchen.   
“It's very nice, but how?” He still had his credit card. Did Meg have one too? He didn't think Sam would have set one up.  
She pointed out the window to the van.  
“I meant, how did you pay for it all?” He paused and placed his hands over Amil's ears. “Who did you kill, Meg?”  
Amil struggled and started to fuss, so he let go. Meg came over and took the baby, then thrust a slip of paper at Cas. Without a word, she went into the kitchen and began to prepare a bottle.  
Castiel looked at the paper. It was a receipt for a furniture store. She had gone shopping and played with cash, not a card. He wondered where she had gotten enough money, but then realized she probably had a way. After all, she had been without Hell’s resources for years. Even though she was a demon, she was independent and resourceful enough to not always resort to killing to get what she wanted.

He joined them in the kitchen and set his bags on the counter. “I was going to introduce solid foods to Amil today.”  
She looked at the bottle she'd just finished preparing and set it on the counter. “Oh. Fine.”  
“He will still have the bottle,” Cas reassured her. She just shrugged.  
He pulled out the box of baby cereal and read the directions. Mixing a few spoonfuls with formula in a bowl, he then handed the bottle back to Meg. Without a word, she went over to the sofa and began to feed Amil. Castiel stayed in the kitchen and just watched them. He felt bad for mistrusting Meg. She had simply been trying to help their situation in the best way she knew how. Neither of them were human. Living as a family was new to both of them. Castiel had been lucky to have the Winchesters to help him over the last few years. Meg hadn’t had anybody.  
He watched as she focused on their feeding son. Her attention was completely on the task, and she was softly talking to the baby. Castiel tuned out what she was saying to give her privacy. There was a hint of a smile on her face, and he saw how positively Amil reacted to her attention. Their son definitely preferred Meg. Castiel tried not to let that fact hurt.

Amil finished his bottle and Castiel brought the cereal to them.  
“I gave him the bottle so I guess you should be the one to do this,” Meg said.  
Castiel thought for a moment. “No. He prefers you, so he might be more open to the food if you are giving it to him. I’ll do it tomorrow.”  
Meg raised her eyebrows and handed him Amil. He propped the baby up in his lap facing Meg. She stirred the cereal and put a little on the baby spoon. “You want this?”  
Amil’s attention was on her, and she raised the spoon to his mouth. He didn’t open his mouth. Rolling her eyes, she opened her own mouth. “Ahh…”  
Amil opened his mouth and she stuck the spoon in. Instantly, half the cereal was pushed out of his mouth, but then the baby started trying to chew, his eyebrows wrinkling.  
Meg started laughing.  
“What is it?” Castiel asked, wiping Amil’s face.  
“That is the exact same expression that you get.”  
“It is not.” Was she suggesting he acted like a baby?  
“It is! You get that same scrunched up face that says ‘I’m not sure of this course of action.’” She shook her head and put more cereal on the spoon. “Unruffle your feathers. It just means he’s your son.”  
Castiel still felt as though he were being mocked, but at the same time felt a small sense of pride.  
“You want more?” Meg asked the baby, holding up the spoon. Once again, it took Amil a moment to open, and half the food ended up back out of his mouth, but he didn’t seem to be objecting to it. Cas was pleased at this latest milestone.

That night, after putting Amil down to sleep, Cas knocked on Meg’s door. She answered, crossing her arms and standing in the doorway.  
“Yeah?”  
“I wished to apologize.”  
“For?”  
“Doubting you. I should have known that you were not leaving for good.”  
“Especially since I didn’t exactly leave by choice last time.”  
He nodded and motioned behind him and then behind Meg. He could see that she had gotten herself a new bed. The frame was simple dark wood. “The furniture you picked out is very nice.”  
“Thanks. Surprised a demon has taste?”  
“No. Your apartment was also nice.” He felt a sudden pang and almost wished he could go back in time to then. When things were a lot simpler between them.  
She smiled. “It was, wasn’t it? I miss my DVDs.”  
“Me too. Well, not the horror ones.”  
“One day, Feathers, you’ll develop real taste. I’ll teach you.”  
This time when she shut her door it was with a smile and not obvious irritation.

o.O.o

A few days later, Meg found a note slipped under her door. Written in hilariously old fashioned handwriting, Castiel informed her that the Winchesters had called for assistance. He would return as soon as possible. Amil had been changed and fed.  
Meg went into the nursery where Amil was in his crib, a clean outfit on and pacifier firmly in his mouth. She was surprised Cas hadn't simply placed the infant with her. He hadn't entered her room in what seemed to be an attempt to establish boundaries for her. She couldn't help but appreciate his efforts.  
“Hey,” she greeted, picking up her son. “Looks like we're on our own today. Your father had to go help the Winchesters. Better get used to that.”  
She took the stuffed unicorn off the shelf next to the crib and waved it at him. He awkwardly grabbed it with one hand and promptly dropped it.  
“Gotta work on that,” she said, picking it up and leaving the room.

In the kitchen she went to pour herself a glass of vodka but paused when she glanced at the baby in her arms. No, she couldn't get drunk, but it still seemed wrong somehow. She put the bottle back in the cupboard.  
She spotted another note on the counter. It was a map of the area, and a nearby park was circled. “A park? He wants me to go to a park? He's trying to domesticate me, isn't he? His own, personal, domestic demon,” she raged, crumpling the note in her fist.  
Looking down at Amil, she saw he was watching her with wide eyes. The pacifier had fallen out, and his tiny mouth was a round O of surprise.  
“My?” Amil said, patting  her cheek with his hand.  
“What? You mean I'm your personal, domestic demon? Yeah, I guess I am. So, park then? We're making another stop, though.”

The park was small. A grassy spot surrounded by a few evergreen trees. Meg spread a blanket and placed Amil on it, then sat on a bench. The baby softly cooed and babbled to himself while she played around on her phone.  
“Your baby's cold,” Meg heard a voice say, interrupting a very juicy gossip article.  
“Excuse me?” She looked up to see a tall, blonde woman in a jogging outfit staring at her with complete reproach.  
“It's like, November, and he's in a T-shirt. He's cold.”  
Meg let her eyes go Black. “Back off, bitch.”  
The woman took off running, and Meg leaned over, picking Amil up, blanket and all. It wasn't like she could feel the cold. He seemed fine though.   
“Let's get to that other stop.”  
Meg, Amil, and a very large triple chocolate milkshake returned to the house. She reluctantly changed him and laid him down for a nap. Milkshake in hand, she settled down on the sofa with Netflix.

It was dark when she heard wings and felt angelic grace. Castiel appeared in the living room and promptly sat down in the chair. His hair was mussed more than usual, and dark circles were under his eyes. The trench coat had several stains on it that seemed to be blood. His white shirt also had blood stains on it. The way that he almost slouched in the chair let her know that he was extremely low on energy.  
“What happened to you?” Meg asked.  
“It was a difficult case. Much healing was involved. Then a group of demons attacked me when I was at your apartment.”  
The Winchesters had to have been near death, and it had to have been a large group of demons to have exhausted the seraph that much.   
She sat up. “Why were you at my apartment?”  
“I...wished to get your DVDs for you. I thought it would make you happy.”  
“Why?” she asked, frustrated and confused. “Why are you always trying to make me happy?”  
He looked down. “All I ever wanted was to be a good angel. I can't do that. But I can be a good father and...whatever you consider me to be to you.”  
She got up and walked over to him. He looked up at her when she reached him. After a few seconds she smacked him.  
“Don't you dare get hurt for my sake. Not for something so stupid.” Seeing him so weak cut into a part of her; a realization she'd had a few months ago and firmly suppressed.  
“Meg?”  
“I'm not worth it. And you are not going to get yourself smote or whatever and leave me to raise the spawn alone. I'm not going back to that damn park. He needs someone around to do it.”  
“You are worth it,” he replied quietly, but firmly.  
She shook her head. “Shut up.”  
He reached out and placed his hand on her arm. It was a simple touch, yet it broke her. She leaned down and kissed him.

o.O.o

Several weeks passed and Castiel and Meg settled into a more comfortable life with their son.  Meg was true to her word and refused to return to the park. Castiel didn't mind too much. He liked being in nature with Amil.  
At least once a week Meg disappeared. Sometimes it was for a few hours, sometimes a day or so. She never explained where she had gone, and she always came back with some gift for Amil. Castiel didn't ask any questions. What mattered was that she came back.  
He regained a closer relationship with Meg. They had not slept together again, but they shared a few more kisses. Sexual intimacy, while pleasant, was not important to him. What mattered was just being close to her again.

“Meg?” Castiel asked. They were on the sofa together. She was draped across his chest watching a rain and wind storm out the window.  
“What?” she asked, not moving. When he hesitated too long, she poked his hip. “What?”  
He ran his hand over her back and finally spoke. “Do you remember your true name?”  
He felt her tense and immediately regretted his question. She would probably get angry now.  
“Eleanor,” she replied quietly, using the Middle English pronunciation.  
He nodded and wrapped an arm around her in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He stayed quiet, listening to the heavy rain fall on the roof and the wind whip around, cracking tree branches.   
To his surprise, she began speaking again. “I think I was named after the queen. Eleanor of Aquitaine?”  
“Oh.” From what he could remember of the queen, she was intelligent, opinionated, and followed what she believed. Much like his Meg.

He paused, wondering whether to continue or not. He was desperate to know more about the human who became the demon he loved. Yet, he didn't want to upset or anger her either. “What did you look like?”  
“I...” Her voice sounded hesitant, and he wondered if it was something she couldn't remember. It was remarkable that she remembered as much as she did. “I was blonde. Like, honey blonde? Honey blonde and curly. You couldn't cut your hair, so it fell below my waist. And I was pale. Perfect English Rose pale. Not a freckle or blemish anywhere. My eyes were blue. A clear, deep blue.  
“Father saw fit to educate me along with my brothers, so I was able to read and write. I liked the classics. Of course, once I married, my husband put a stop to that.” She broke off, her tone darkening.  
“Greek classics?” he asked, rubbing her back.  
She nodded. “I could dance and had a pleasant voice. And my figure was perfectly suited to the fashions of the day. I was a prize.”  
“Prize?”  
“Father was able to secure an advantageous match for me. Advantageous for everyone else, that is. I brought good fortune to the family.” Her tone was getting darker so he knew it was time to end the conversation.  
She shifted and looked at him. “Don't ask what I did, or why, to end up in Hell.”  
“I won't,” he promised.

“What about you?” she asked, resting her chin on his chest.  
He shrugged. “There isn't much to say. Father created me after the archangels and seraphs.”  
“I thought you were a seraph?”  
He shook his head. “I was promoted after the apocalypse. Before that I was just a mid-level angel. I showed much proficiency for battle, so I was assigned to be a warrior. Eventually I led my own garrison.”  
“Hmm... What do you look like?”  
“That is difficult to say. I am energy. My true form is immaterial. A multi-dimensional wavelength. I am pure celestial intent.”  
“With wings.”  
“Six wings.”  
“You're quite proud of that, aren't you?” she asked with a grin.  
He shrugged shyly and she laughed.


	17. Chapter 17

The first thing Meg realized upon regaining consciousness was that she was trapped. The table that she was on was hard, and thick straps—crossing over her chin, breasts, hips, wrists, and ankles—held her to it. She didn't bother to try to smoke out. She knew what this table was, and she knew that the straps were sigiled.  
Opening her eyes, she saw that she was in a large, empty room. The paint on the walls was severely chipped and what was left was covered in graffiti. She could sense someone else in the room. Another demon.  
“Who are you?” she demanded. The figure stepped into her line of sight and she narrowed her eyes. “Portia?”  
Portia smiled and approached the table. “Good to see you again, Meg.”  
Meg made her face expressionless, though inside she felt the betrayal. Of course, she shouldn't be surprised. Portia was a demon, and demons were not well known for their loyalty.  
“You're probably wondering—“ Portia began.  
“I'm not wondering shit. You're an opportunistic bitch. You laid low during the apocalypse and now you're kissing the ass of the new man in charge. I'm just wondering why you didn't turn me in before.”  
Portia leaned down so that she was inches from Meg's face. “I didn't want to turn you in at all. I was a loyal friend, Meg. Then you took things too far. Whoring yourself out to an angel? Bearing its child? And even then... I'd hoped you would stay gone. That you wouldn't return to your old habits. But you started going to the casinos. It always was your preferred way to make money. And you walked right into my trap.”

Mentally, Meg berated herself. She should have seen it. Yes, she was going to the casinos. She was extremely good at gambling, and they needed money for Amil. Casinos were also dens of sin, and that was the perfect place to find demons. Meg hadn't just been gambling. She'd been keeping tabs on the search for her son. The last thing she remembered before being knocked out was following a demon who had seemed to have the latest information.

Portia looked genuinely upset, but Meg wasn't buying it. She spat in Portia's face. Portia straightened and looked behind her. Giving Meg a smirk, she said, ”The King of Hell will see you now.”  
Meg twisted the best she could and then rolled her eyes. Crowley. The King of the Crossroads demon who had betrayed Lucifer and aided the Winchesters in the apocalypse. The demon who then usurped Lucifer's throne after Lucifer had been resealed in the Cage.  
Her cause. Her reason for—  
Except that wasn't the case anymore. Her cause and reason for living had shifted to Amil.  
That didn't mean she wasn't going to stab Crowley the second she was free, however.

“So about six months ago, an angel in my employ told me about a naughty little angel who went and fathered a child. Only this angel went a step further, and instead of impregnating a human, he impregnated a demon,” Crowley said.  
“You just going to talk my ear off? Because I'd rather be tortured than have to listen to you,” Meg said.  
Crowley chuckled. “But I'm getting to the the best part. I wracked my brain trying to figure out what demon would lower themselves to... I mean, an angel? They'd have to be pretty desperate to be willing to be an angel's broodmare.”  
“That's great! Even your tiny brain needs a workout at least once a century.”  
“Then I realized only one demon would do such a thing. One who had already been a broodmare in life. One who'd sold her soul to make her husband permanently impotent; sparing her from his bed and from baring any more children.” Crowley chuckled again. “Too bad you were already pregnant again, and died eight months later.”  
Meg stayed still, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. “You have a point to any of this?”  
“Where's the child, Meg?”  
“Is that what you've been doing all this time? Searching for a child? Oh, Crowley, these paternal instincts are out of control.”  
He pulled out a blade and ran it over her stomach, tearing her shirt. Damn him. She liked this shirt.  
“The child.”  
“You want a baby so bad, go make one yourself. If you can find a woman who'd have you. And you really should put that away before you hurt yourself.” She had studied under Alistair. Crowley was a joke compared to him.

Crowley stepped back and gestured to someone she couldn't see. “I was hoping you would resist. I believe you know my most loyal servant.”  
The demon stepped into her view, and she felt a sense of dread. She did know him. His name was Arthur, and he had been Alistair's second apprentice.  
Crowley smirked. “I'll leave you two to get reacquainted.”

 

 

Meg laid on the floor of the cell, quiet, curled up except for her wrists tied to the wall. She was still unable to smoke out. It seemed that while she was occupied, Crowley had warded the entire building against it.  
There was a very faint light coming up from the window across from the cell. It did nothing but highlight the utter decay of the abandoned building.  
Footsteps sounded down the hall, and she mentally prepared herself. Arthur back for another round? This would be number...she'd lost count.

It wasn't Arthur who appeared at the door of the cell though. It was Sam Winchester.  
“Aren't you a little short for a Stormtrooper?” Meg asked by greeting.  
“Not really.” Sam started to return her small smile but stopped when he saw her appearance.  
“Little help?” she asked, snapping him out of his shock.  
“Yeah, sorry,” he said, hurriedly untying the ropes. He held out a hand to help her to stand. She rolled her eyes but took it. He was rescuing her, after all.

He led her out of the cell and down the hall. The floor was littered with the occasional dead demon, but she was keeping an eye out for a specific one. She stopped a few halls away and stared down at the empty meat suit of Arthur.  
“Meg?” Sam asked carefully.  
“Too quick,” was all she said, looking at the wound in the meat suit's chest obviously made with the demon killing knife. She kicked the corpse a few times, in the face and crotch, before continuing on down the hall.

A few minuted later they ran into Castiel standing outside a doorway. The minute he saw Meg, he hurried up to her and pulled her into a hug.  
She pushed him away. “Crowley?”  
Castiel took in her appearance with a puzzled expression. “In there.”  
Meg turned to Sam. “Knife.”  
“Meg...”  
“Knife, Sam. Now.”  
“I don't—“  
“He's after my son!” she shouted. “And that's just the beginning. Knife, now, or I'll take it from you.”  
Castiel silently handed her his angel blade. She threw Sam a disgusted look and shoved her way through the doors.

Crowley was in the center of the room secure in a Devil's Trap. He smirked when he saw her.  
“There's my whore,” Crowley said.  
Meg didn't speak. She raised her hand and clenched her fist, using all of her power. Crowley doubled over, clutching his stomach and spiting blood. Not hesitating for a second, she kept a constant attack. Crowley soon fell to one knee. Hurrying over, she entered the Devil's Trap and stabbed him through the back.  
“Someone want to let me out?” she asked, feeling incredibly drained. Keeping Crowley under her control had taken nearly everything she had. Neither one of them moved.  
“You just killed the King of Hell,” Sam said.  
“Your point?”  
“You just killed the King of Hell.”  
Meg rolled her eyes. “I see why he called you Moose. Hey, Castiel, do you mind?”  
Castiel hurried over and scraped part of the paint away, breaking through the Devil's Trap. She felt it release her, and she stepped out of it.  
“You both act so surprised. I was Azazel's daughter, remember? I just never flaunted my strength because that makes you a target.”  
Castiel and Sam seemed to accept her explanation. “Let's go home,” Cas said.

o.O.o

Castiel was worried. Something horrible had happened to Meg. Possibly multiple somethings. She was bruised. Thick wounds covered her wrists. Dried blood peppered her skin. And strangely, her hair was now blonde and dried, like hay.  
He guided her to the back seat of the Impala and, getting the first aid kit from Sam, dressed the wounds on her wrists as they traveled. She didn't react, just sipped from the bottle of spiced rum he had brought and stared out the window at passing scenery.  
“Where were we?” she finally asked.  
“Abandoned jail a few states away,” Castiel answered.  
Meg fell silent again and he let her be.

“I could have ended it,” she said a few hours later, looking at him. “Remember I told you I was never going to go through that again? I could have stopped it if I'd told him where Amil was. I never even told them what state he is in.”  
“You're a very good mother,” Castiel replied, not wanting to think of what she must have gone though.  
Meg just looked out the window.

They pulled up to the house the next day. Meg got out of the car and hurried up to the it. A second later she yelled for him.  
Castiel ran into the house and saw a disaster. Furniture was overturned and broken, scorch marks from a pair of wings was burned into a wall. He spotted a bloody arm sticking out from under the remains of the sofa. Pulling the furniture off, he found Dean unconscious.  
Castiel placed his fingers on Dean's chest and began to heal the man. It wasn't easy. Dean was near death. After what seemed like forever, Dean opened his eyes.  
“I can't find Amil,” Meg said, joining them in the remains of the living room.  
Castiel looked at Dean, who had closed his eyes again. “Dean, where's my son?”  
“They took him,” Dean said quietly and with great effort.  
“What?” Castiel asked, stunned. “Who?”  
“Angels. It's my fault. I took him into the yard for some fresh air. He tugged at the necklace and had it off before I could stop him. I hadn't tied it tight because I was...I didn't want him to accidentally get strangled or something. They must have been on the lookout because they just appeared. Six of them. I ran into the house hoping the warding would stop them, but—“ He gestured to the wall and Castiel saw large cracks breaking the wards. “They took him from my arms and he was crying and reaching for me.” Dean paused and took a deep breath. “I fought the bastards and I got one of them and... They didn't kill me because they said it would be blasphemy to kill Michael's true vessel.” Dean shook his head. “They took him from my arms.”  
Castiel stood and looked around. No. Dean had to be wrong. Amil must be hiding somewhere.  
Except that Amil could barely roll over much less get away from a group of angels.  
Because Amil was a baby. His baby. His and Meg's baby.  
Castiel felt a sharp ache forming in his chest.  
“Well, that's it then,” Meg said flatly. She was staring at Dean with a cold expression. “He's dead.”  
“What?” Sam demanded.  
That ache grew until it was through Castiel's entire body.  
“Nephilim are abominations. The angels have always smote them. A half-angel/half-demon Nephilim? Double the abomination.”  
“Amil is a baby.”  
His baby. His and Meg's baby. The baby who called him Da and patted his cheek affectionately. Who liked strawberries and whose favourite toy was this stuffed unicorn that Meg refused to explain about.  
“No shit. So were all the others.”  
“Angels are dicks,” Dean said flatly.  
Who had never seen snow and snow was in the weather prediction next week. He was going to attempt to build a snowman for Amil. He had bought the baby a blue hat and matching snowsuit and boots.  
The ache now encompassed his true self and he felt like he was dying.  
No, Amil was the one—  
“What the hell is wrong with you,” Sam exclaimed. “How can you—“  
The pain was overwhelming him and it was too much. It wouldn't go away. He punched the wall, channeling all of his power into the blow. The entire house shook, and the wall crumbled away along with part of the roof. He heard cursing and yells but it didn't matter. None of it mattered.  
Hands roughly tugged at him, and he allowed himself to be pulled from the house. He barely registered leaving. He sank down to the ground by the Impala.  
“Cas—“  
It hadn't helped. The pain was still there and, no matter how hard he tried to heal it, it wouldn't go away.  
“Make it stop,” he asked, looking up into the face of the person closest to him. It was Dean.  
“Cas, man, I—“  
“Make the pain stop. I can't make it stop.” He gripped Dean's jacket and the hunter knelt in front of him.  
“Cas...”  
“It won't stop and I can't find the cause and it won't stop.” It was everything and everywhere and he was no longer made of energy in a human vessel but made of pure, excruciating pain and it made no sense. “Make it stop.”  
“I can't,” Dean said and wrapped one arm around Castiel's shoulders, pulling him closer until his forehead rested against Dean's shoulder.

o.O.o

Chuck stared at the pages he had just typed and frowned. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. His newest creation was supposed to remain with the tools that had made it. At least, for a few years while it grew and came into its own powers. That was the plan.  
Except, when had anything on this planet ever gone by the plan? Everything was a disappointment. That was part of the reason why he had created this new being.  
No. This was his last chance at success. He couldn't allow it to fail.  
Even if that meant revealing his true identity and existence to his previous creations.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Meg left Castiel to the scene he was making and reentered the house. Stepping over the destruction, she went into Amil’s room. It was untouched. Everything was where it should be, as though waiting for the baby's return.  
She went over to the crib and picked up the stuffed unicorn. Quickly, she shoved it into her pocket. Next, she picked up a blanket, blue with tiny stars. Amil had loved this blanket.  
She tore it in half.  
“Meg?” Castiel’s voice quietly asked from behind her.  
She turned and saw him in the doorway clutching a bag. “What?”  
“They want to leave. Are you ready?” When she didn't reply, he continued, his tone hesitant. “We cannot stay here.”  
“Why?”  
His brow wrinkled. “It's no longer safe. And I…”  
“We no longer have a kid. Why do you want me to go with you?”  
“Because I don't want to lose you too.”  
Meg almost rolled her eyes at the sappiness, but he'd said it so firmly, so matter of fact, that it spoke to a part of her.  
She dropped the scraps and followed him out to the Impala.

Meg wondered if the bunker was actually some kind of black hole. It certainly kept sucking her back in.  
Upon arrival, Dean headed for the kitchen, and Sam sat down at a table and pulled out his laptop. Castiel stayed in the doorway, looking lost. He had barely spoken to her during the trip to the bunker. He'd tried, but she'd shut him out. She almost said something, but went to her room instead.

The bag he'd had was actually for her. She took out some clothes and a few supplies and headed into the bathroom.  
Turning the shower on hot, she stripped and stepped under the spray. Even though it was so hot the steam was thick, she couldn't feel the heat. She could, however, feel the water streaming down her skin. Pouring a generous amount of soap into a cloth, she scrubbed away the remaining evidence of her captivity. When her hand moved to her stomach, she paused, remembering the life that had been growing there less than six months ago. She tossed the cloth down and shut off the water. Time for a drink.

She'd finished the spiced rum from Castiel, so she went into the kitchen. The Winchesters always had alcohol, thanks to Dean being a functional alcoholic.   
Sure enough, Dean was at the table, a bottle of bourbon in front of him. Without a word, she grabbed it, took a long drink, and sat across from him.  
He stared at her, his eyes hard yet full of misery.  
“So, what's with the hair?” he asked.  
“Crowley.”  
“Why?”  
She took another drink. “Gotta look the part.”  
Dean raised his eyebrows, clearly not understanding.  
“Whore,” she explained.  
Dean frowned and opened his hand. She pushed the bottle across the table to him. “That's fucked up.”  
She shrugged. “One more reason I should have stabbed him in the face.” She was glad the misogynistic usurper was dead, but Crowley's death had been far, far too quick.  
Dean fell silent, and they passed the bottle back and forth a few times.

“You want to kill me,” he finally said.  
Meg shook her head and took a drink. “You mean because of Amil? How you managed to save precious Sammy when he was a baby and you were all of four...how you've saved so many, and even stopped the fucking apocalypse, yet somehow my son ends up captured on your watch? Why no, Dean, I don't want to kill you at all.  
'I hope you live a long life. But don't doubt me. When you die, you're going downstairs. I'll make sure of it. And I'll be waiting. We're gonna have so much fun.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “With you having been trained under Alistair, I know the blade won't have much effect on you. It doesn’t on me. Truly exquisite torture, however, has a mental component. Did you get that far before your heavenly rescue?”   
He flinched, minutely, as he did every time she reminded him of his time in Hell. She thought that was the true reason he hated demons so much. It's wasn't because of Mama Winchester. No, Dean hated demons because he had gotten off the rack and picked up the blade himself. If it wasn't for the Apocalypse, he'd still be in Hell, well on his way to becoming a demon. Deep down, he was no better than she was.

She leaned forward, clutching the bottle. “I'm going to get into that pathetic little brain of yours. I'm going to find every memory of my son, and you're going to relive them. Over and over. I might even share some of mine.” She grinned as he stared at her with a blank expression. She embraced the hate emanating from him. It was better than the strange numbness she'd been in. “Oh yes. Every smile. Every time he called me Ma. Every cheek pat. The first time he rolled over. The first—Oh wait. That's as far as he got.” She stood up and walked around the table to him. “You're going to be my masterpiece.” She handed him the now empty bottle and leaned down, her mouth by his ear. She knew it was taking everything for him not to flinch away. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.  
“Every morning Castiel and Amil would sit in the nursery and watch the sunrise. Daddy and baby bonding time, you know? Well, every morning you didn't drag Cas away on some hunting thing, that is.”  
She left without another word.

Meg was almost to the library when she heard a shout. She rolled her eyes and entered the library to find Cas and Sam facing off. Sam was clutching his laptop protectively.  
“Do I need to put you in separate corners?” Meg asked.  
They ignored her.  
“No more, Sam,” Cas ordered, his voice low.  
“What is wrong with you? Don't you--” Sam protested.  
“Amil is dead! This belief you have is foolish.”  
“You're an angel. Why don't you have faith?”  
“It is precisely because I'm an angel that I don't have faith. I know how angels behave. I know the rules. The whole reason we were hiding was to prevent this from happening!”  
“You didn't even know Nephilim were possible before this. Maybe there's more you don't know.”  
“You're wrong,” Cas said flatly.  
Sam clenched his jaw, stubborn. “You go ahead and think that. I'm going to continue to look for signs of angel activity. I'm going to rescue Amil.”  
“You're going to go up against the strongest archangel? Please, save me a front row seat to this slaughter,” Meg said and pulled Castiel to the dormitory.

In her room she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed. She curled up, facing the wall. Castiel turned on the television, and the quiet tones of some drama filled the room. He climbed up next to her, but didn't speak.  
The numbness had settled back in and she didn't understand it. She wasn't sure how she should feel, but this wasn't it.

After a while the TV turned off and she felt Castiel lay down next to her.  
“We could have another one,” she said hesitantly, rolling over to face him.  
“Another what?”  
“Another baby? It would be fun to make,” she replied, reaching for his waist.  
Lust was something she understood. Except...she was far from lustful. In fact, the idea of having sex disgusted her. But if it would get rid of the numbness, and get her back in familiar territory, it would be worth it.  
It would be worth it if...  
Gently, he took her hands and held them. “No, Meg. Ordinarily I would be happy to be intimate with you. But...I do not think that you really want this. And I know that you don't really want another baby. You hated being pregnant, and hated me. I will not go through that again.”  
She tugged her hands out of his grip and stayed quiet.  
“It would not be Amil. Nothing will bring him back,” Castiel finished.


	19. Chapter 19

Meg barely stirred when Castiel's cell phone buzzed, interrupting the complete silence of the room. He didn't speak to her, just climbed off the bed and left the room.

A few minutes later he returned, turning on the light.  
“What?” she asked, her eyes still closed.  
“Meg, you need to come with me.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
He paused and she finally opened her eyes. His expression was...strange. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.  
Then she felt it. She'd been pulled out of her self-induced bubble of numbness and she felt angels. Not just Cas but many. Instinctively, she panicked; scrambling out from under the bedding and reaching for her weapon.  
“Meg, it is okay. They're not here to--” Castiel said, reaching for her.  
She shoved him away. “They just murdered out son!”  
“It's Gabriel. He says he has news about Amil.”  
“If it's just news, then why am I sensing more than one angel with him? What news could he possibly have? Ever think that this is a trap? You told me that they usually smite the parents of a Nephilim too.”  
“I trust Gabriel. He helped us, and he loved Amil.”  
Meg shook her head, not believing the angel's gullibility. She gripped her angel blade tightly. “Fine. Lead the way.”  
He eyed the weapon but didn't try to take it from her.

  
Gabriel and six other angels were waiting for them in the library. The Winchesters had apparently awoken and were eyeing the celestial beings warily. The angels, except Gabriel, were eyeing the Winchesters back, their expressions full of contempt.  
“Care to explain, Cas?” Dean asked carefully.  
Castiel simply looked at Gabriel.  
“Raphael has Amil,” the archangel said.  
Meg crossed her arms. “Tell us something we don't know. Yeah, Raphael took him and smote him—“  
One of the angels, a short woman with brown hair, sneered. “Silence, demon whore.”

Meg snapped, her anger and pain coming out all at once. She flicked her arm out, using her power to fling the angel across the room and into a wall. Using more power, she held the angel there. She strode across the room to the angel, getting in her face.  
“Listen up,” she said, raising her voice while looking the angel in the eyes. “The next one who calls me a whore gets an angel blade through the throat. Understand?”  
In the past she didn't care what others called her. After Crowley and Arthur, however, she was done putting up with it.  
“You—“ the angel, started, looking at Meg with pure hate.  
“Do. You. Understand?” Meg interrupted, using her power to squeeze the angel's insides hard enough to make the angel wince.  
“Yes,” the angel said through clenched teeth.  
“Good.” Meg released her and returned to Castiel's side, silently challenging him to say anything. He didn't. Instead he gave her a look of pity that shamed her.  
“You did nothing?” the angel asked Gabriel.  
“You earned it,” Gabriel said, then turned his attention to Meg and Castiel. “As I was saying, Raphael has Amil captive.”  
“That's not funny,” Castiel said, his voice low.  
“I'm not joking. Amil is alive,” Gabriel said, looking at Meg and Cas with complete compassion.  
Meg couldn't believe it. Refused to. It just wasn't possible. She could see what the other angels thought of her. There was no way that the self-righteous cloud-hoppers would let her child live. Looking at Castiel, however, she saw the disbelief quickly replaced by relief and barely held in joy. He believed it...or maybe, he needed to believe it.  
“He's convinced that the abomination has incredible power. He wishes to use that power,” another angel, this one male, said.  
Meg bristled at them calling her child an abomination, but was stopped from saying anything by Castiel placing a hand on her arm. She shrugged it off.  
“Why does he need more power?” Castiel asked. “He's the most powerful archangel.”  
“He wants to restart the Apocalypse,” Gabriel said, sounding tired.  
“What?” Dean exclaimed. “What the hell?”  
“Yeah. He's lost it. Kinda glad Dad only made four of us. Insanity seems to be running rampant.”  
“Why does he want to restart the Apocalypse?” Sam asked.  
Gabriel shrugged. “Like I said, insane. I think that since that's what dear old Dad wanted, he believes that is the way it has to be. It's...not a very popular decision. That's why he has the Little Guy. He wants to use Amil's power as a weapon.”  
“Amil has no power,” Meg said. Her son was advanced, but he hadn't manifested any abilities, angelic or demonic.  
“Oh, that's where you're wrong. Amil has more power than you can comprehend. It's just dormant since he's so little.”  
“If Raphael has that power he will be unstoppable,” another angel, female, said quietly. It was hard to believe she was an angel. She wore glasses and held herself back from the rest of the group as through she wished she were invisible.  
“Ambriel's right. Nephilim have destroyed planets in the past,” Gabriel explained.  
“That's why they're forbidden,” the angel Meg had attacked said, glaring pointedly at Castiel. “Because of your filthy actions Raphael has—“  
“Wait,” Meg interrupted before the urge to bitch slap the angel became too great. “What you're saying is, Amil is powerful, but that that power is suppressed because he's just a baby?”  
“Correct,” another male angel, this one in a ridiculous fast food uniform said.  
“So...how does Raphael un-supress that power?” None of the angels replied. “Is it torture? Is my son being tortured right now?” Being a master torturer herself, the idea of any of those skills being used on her son was too much to handle.  
“Heaven does not torture,” the angel bitch said indignantly.  
“The hell they don't. Hannah, shut up,” Gabriel ordered. “But no. No, he's fine.”  
Meg stared Gabriel in the eyes but found no trace of a lie. “Second question. If he is unable to use his abilities now, then there has to be a reason, right? So what happens if that power is accessed this early?”  
Gabriel looked away, as did several of the other angels. Meg looked at Castiel, and he wouldn't meet her eyes. “Tell me,” she ordered.  
“The energy would probably burn through his vessel. Body. He would not survive,” Castiel explained quietly.  
Meg took a step back as the words sunk in. Shaking her head, she hurried up the steps and out of the bunker. Once in the trees, she leaned against one and closed her eyes.  
This wasn't right. None of this was right. He was just a baby...

Time passed and she heard footsteps. Opening her eyes, she saw Sam approaching her.  
“Who sent you?' she asked.  
“Dean,” Sam replied, stopping a few feet away. She noticed a pair of handcuffs in his hand.  
“Of course. Gotta keep an eye on the demon. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid.”  
“It has nothing to do with your being a demon.”  
Meg raised an eyebrow and nodded to the cuffs. He raised them and she could see the sigils etched into them.  
“This is about you being a mother. See, as a demon you would be logical and think. It's how you've survived this long, right? As a mother, however...” Sam paused. “That's why Dean is watching Cas and has a bottle of holy oil.”  
Meg took a small comfort in the fact that she wasn't being singled out. Reluctantly, she held out her wrists. Normally she would have fought it, but she no longer had the energy. She felt nervousness and nausea as memories of the last time she was bound entered her mind.  
Sam shook his head and put them in his pocket. “No.”  
“Why?” she asked, relieved.  
“I'm the one that rescued you. I saw how you were. I...have a pretty good idea of what you're not telling.”  
Sam had always been more perceptive than his brother, and she felt a deep sense of shame fill her. She crossed her arms defensively. “So?”  
“So, I'll just ask that you don't do anything stupid. Everybody inside is coming up with a plan.” He paused. “You could go in—“  
“And destroy that bitch Hannah? Yeah, good plan,” Meg said, rolling her eyes.  
“Got it.”  
Meg stared at him for a few moments and then once again leaned against the tree. Sam leaned against a tree of his own and they waited.

  
A few hours passed, and Cas came outside. He looked tired but determined.  
“We know what we're going to do,” he told Meg and Sam.  
Meg crossed her arms. “Really? Concerning our son? Please tell me.”  
Cas' forehead wrinkled. “You were not there.”  
Meg waved her hand. “Forget it. What?”  
“We—the angels—are going to go in and attack Raphael. Your job is to grab Amil and teleport out.”  
Meg nodded. “Fine.”  
“Meg—“  
“Shut up,” she replied, walking ahead of him and into the bunker.

  
The warehouse Raphael was using as a headquarters on Earth was rundown. It seemed angels and demons had one thing in common.  
“It's heavily warded,” Gabriel said, narrowing his eyes at the walls.  
“Not against angels, though, right? I mean, they can't if they're inside,” Sam said.  
“The bunker—“ Meg started.  
“The bunker's wards are special,” Sam said. “Invented just for the bunker.”  
“You will have to wait here,” Cas told her. “We'll break the anti-demon wards as soon as we can.”  
She wanted to tell him no, but she really didn't have a choice. “Fine.”  
Everybody but the angel in a fast food uniform filed into the warehouse. She raised her eyebrow at him.  
“I'll be your backup,” he said. “I'm Samandriel.”  
Meg nodded, not caring. Her mind was on her son.

It took fifteen minutes. Fifteen long, agonizing minutes before the door opened again and Cas beckoned them in.  
Only he and Dean remained. The others had gone on ahead to search. It was eerily quiet. She would have expected guards or something. But that was angel arrogance, she guessed.  
They walked down a long hallway, plain wall on one side and doors on the other. She could tell by the concentration on Cas' face that he was sensing for any ambush.  
At the end of the hall they met up with the rest of the group. The hall ended and split in two directions, the left and the right.  
“I still think—“ Hannah was saying, when Meg heard something.  
“Shut up,” Meg said, trying to listen.  
“How dare—“  
“I mean it,” Meg hissed, stepping away from everybody else towards the left hall. It was crying. She heard Amil wailing. “This way.”  
She started down the hall and felt someone grab her arm. It was Gabriel. He gave her a fierce look and moved ahead of her. The other angels soon joined him, and she glared.  
The crying got louder as they walked, and soon she heard voices.  
“—won't stop,” a female voice said.  
“So fix it,” a male voice answered.  
Gabriel stopped and looked back at Meg and the Winchesters. “Raphael,” he mouthed.  
Meg didn't care. She was only focused on the crying baby.  
Her baby. Hers and Cas' baby.  
“How? I'm not a nursemaid, I don't—“  
“You are what I say you are.” He paused. “Try feeding the thing.”  
The crying faded and Meg felt panic. Amil was close, so close. Every particle of her being wanted to rush in there and get him. Comfort him.  
She felt a hand on her arm and looked back, her teeth bared at whoever dared to try and stop her. It was Sam. The Winchester gave her a look of utter compassion and understanding. It made her sick. He didn't understand. He couldn't. He wasn't a parent. That was her son, and he was unhappy. He needed her.  
She heard low, arguing voices and saw that Dean was speaking to Castiel. Apparently she wasn't the only one struggling.  
Gabriel walked forward and put his hand on Cas' shoulder. She could tell that they were communicating using “angel radio.” Whatever they decided, Cas nodded and looked away.

Gabriel and all of the angels except Cas and Samandriel went on ahead.  
“Why aren't you with them?” Meg asked Cas.  
“Gabriel feels that I'm too...emotional,” Cas replied, sounding ashamed. “I could put the mission at risk.”  
“It's your son,” Dean said.  
“I am an angel,” Cas replied firmly.  
“What about you?” Meg asked Samandriel.  
“I told you. I am your backup.”  
Meg rolled her eyes and turned back to where the others had disappeared. A second later there was shouting and a loud bang.  
It had begun.  
A few minutes later Meg heard Amil crying again. Acting on pure instinct—motherly, not demonic—she ran towards it. Behind her she heard shouting, but she didn't listen. The crying was coming from where a battle was going on. She needed to get her son out.

Meg burst through the door and into a large room. Angels were everywhere, fiercely fighting. There were flashes of light, and the clang of angel blades filled the air. She ignored it all, her mind only on her son.  
A few feet away a tall man held Amil. Amil was crying and squirming, but Raphael ignored the baby and focused on the battle. Gabriel and Ambriel slowly approached Raphael. The archangel knocked Ambriel across the room with a flick of one hand.  
“Raphael, stop this!” Gabriel cried.  
Behind her, she heard the others arrive and Sam swear. It caught Raphael's attention and he smiled. It sent a shiver down Meg's spine.  
“Meg, stay behind me,” Cas said, moving in front of her.  
“Screw you. I'm a big girl,” she said, trying to push him aside.  
“You're a demon, and every angel in this room can smite you.”  
“Right. Good point.”

“Well. If it isn't Castiel, and his demon whore,” Raphael sneered. “Come to get your half-breed abomination back?”  
Meg gripped her angel blade tighter and felt a hand on her arm. It was Sam, who gave her a warning look.  
“We came to get my son back,” Castiel corrected, slowly moving towards Raphael.  
In the distance there was a scream and flash. Meg caught the sight of magnificent, burnt wings against one wall.  
From a far door she saw Dean sneak into the room and head towards Raphael, angel blade in hand.  
“It shouldn't exist. Since it does, however, it will be put to use for Heaven,” Raphael said. “You know how generous that is, Castiel.”  
Meg couldn't hold back any longer and pushed past Castiel. “My son is not a tool, especially not for Heaven.”  
“You dare speak to me?” Raphael demanded, appalled. He raised his hand and Meg felt a hot, angelic energy slam into her. She was pushed back several feet and landed on the floor.  
“No! Ma!” Amil cried.  
Meg pushed herself up and saw her son struggling fiercely in Raphael's arms. The baby was reaching out and calling for her. Then, Amil's eyes began to glow bluish-gray. The shadows of tiny, fluffy wings appeared to be coming from his back.  
“No,” she said and started towards him. “Amil, no!”  
“Ma!” Amil cried, and a burst of pure, blue-gray energy burst from him. It surrounded Raphael, making the archangel stumble. Meg watched in horror as Raphael let go of Amil, and the baby started to fall. Instead of stabbing Raphael in the back with the archangel blade, Dean dove forward, grabbing Amil. Meg took the opportunity of Raphael's distraction to grab a hold of Dean and teleport them away from the battle.

  
They appeared in front of the bunker. Dean hurried down to the door and unlocked it, letting them inside. He hurried down the stairs, and a moment later the wards went up.  
Amil was sobbing. Not his normal wet diaper or hungry cry. This was something she had never heard before. It was a full bodied wail, and it caused something inside her to shatter.  
Dean rocked Amil, talking quietly to him. “It's all right. You're safe now. I got you.”  
Meg watched this, feeling a kind of anguish. She should be the one comforting her son, not Dean.  
Dean continued rocking Amil in place and turned facing Meg. He started, as though he had forgotten that she was there. He gently pressed his lips to the top of Amil's head and then held him out. “Here. Go to your Mom.”  
Meg was frozen, stunned, until she felt Amil's chubby hands grasping at her. Still staring at Dean, she took her son and wrapped her arms around him. Dean nodded once and walked away.  
Meg held Amil to her, tightly. His sobs slowed.  
“Ma! My Ma!” he said, tiny voice thick with tears. He was shaking.  
“Shhh,” she said, lowering her head and breathing in his scent. “I know.”  
Once he had stopped crying, she quickly checked him over, making sure he wasn't hurt anywhere. He seemed fine, but he clung to her with a fierceness he never had before, and she wondered about the non-physical injuries.  
Dean returned with a basin of warm water, bath supplies, and a t-shirt. The angels had only put a diaper on Amil, so it was easy to undress him. Meg tried to lower Amil into the basin, but the baby clung to her.  
“No!” Amil cried, burying his face in Meg's neck. “My Ma!”  
“Okay. It's okay,” Meg soothed, and she nodded at Dean. Dean wet a washcloth with soapy water and gently wiped the baby off. After a few minutes Amil turned his head and looked at Dean. Meg could feel the tension in him slowly fading, probably due to the warm water and lavender soap. “See? It's just Dean.”  
“Hey, Little Guy,” Dean said.  
Carefully, Meg tried once again to lower Amil into the basin. The baby let her, but he clutched her sleeve with one hand.  
“Dean...” Meg began.  
“You can't,” Dean replied, focusing on bathing Amil. “Look at him. You leave him now and it will destroy him.”  
“How'd you know what I was going to say?”  
“Because if it were my kid, I would want to do the same thing. I'd want to destroy every last angel.”  
Meg nodded. “Exactly.”  
“You can't.”  
“I need—“ she began, but stopped. Amil's eyes were getting sleepy, so she lifted him out of the bath and wrapped him in a towel.  
“I'm going to run and get food and diapers for him. I got this though,” Dean said, handing her the t-shirt.  
“Why are you being like this with me?” she asked as he hurried towards the stairs. “I said I was going to torture you.”  
“Exactly.”  
“I always knew you had a kinky side.”  
“Funny. You didn't threaten me because of demonic possessiveness. That was pure pain. Mother pain. You care,” Dean said, and left the bunker.

After borrowing some blankets, Meg went into her old room. Laying Amil down, she curled up with him. He still held her sleeve tightly, and she gently pried off his fingers. He began to fuss.  
“Hey. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”  
He watched her, and she hated the look of distrust in his eyes. Slowly, his exhaustion took over and he fell asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

Castiel watched Meg teleport Dean and Amil away and focused on Raphael. The archangel was obviously shaken and injured. Raphael was holding his middle, and Cas could see burn marks on his face and hands. Upon seeing that Amil was gone, Raphael let out a scream of rage.  
“Go after them,” Raphael shouted.  
Nobody did. All of the archangel's followers were either engaged in battle...or dead.  
“Give up this foolishness,” Gabriel ordered.  
“Or what? You'll run off and join the Pagans again?” Raphael asked and then focused on Castiel. “See what you've done? That kind of power shouldn't exist, but, since it does, it should be kept under tight control.”  
Castiel stepped towards the angel he'd always thought of as his big brother. At one point he'd looked up to Raphael. Then, Raphael had smote him for being a threat to the prophet Chuck. That had definitely killed the hero worship. Now, he saw Raphael as nothing more than a threat to his son's safety.   
“Amil wouldn't have accessed those powers if you hadn't triggered them.” His control slipped as he thought of how Amil had looked: terrified, helpless, calling and reaching for Meg, and then falling. If Dean hadn't caught the baby... Castiel accessed his grace and felt it power him. His spine straightened as he felt his wings manifest, and he spread them. “You took my son, Raphael. You are trying to restart the apocalypse!”  
“The apocalypse is supposed to happen! It's Father's will. The abomination could be an asset to our side,” Raphael claimed, and Cas could see a fanatical look in his eyes.  
“Who are you to interpret Father's will?” Gabriel asked. “Father left a long time ago, and he didn't even bother to show up the last time the Apocalypse was happening.”  
“You know nothing,” Raphael sneered.  
“We all know nothing! That's the point. We're all on our own. It's up to us to decide what's right. Personally, I think kidnapping babies is wrong,” Gabriel said.  
“It's not a baby; it's a crime against nature!” Raphael shouted, and Cas could see he'd become completely insane. “It should have been destroyed before it was born!”  
Cas gripped his angel blade tighter in fury.  
“You defiled yourself with a demon...engaged in forbidden, carnal acts...created a monster...and you have the nerve to come here and fight me? Me! The one who has held everything together since you stopped the apocalypse and sent our brother to the Cage. And you're helping him, Gabriel?”  
“Yes,” Gabriel said simply.  
Cas could see that there was no hope, and it saddened him. Steeling himself, he sent a subtle nod to Gabriel.  
Gabriel lunged towards Raphael with his angel blade. Of course, the elder archangel blocked it. While he was distracted, Castiel sent a blast of power at Raphael and thrust forward with his angel blade. He had almost made contact when—  
—when Raphael suddenly stiffened. His eyes widened, and he burst into flames. His scream was loud, as it contained not just his human voice but his true, angel voice. Within minutes, Raphael—vessel and angel—was reduced to ashes.

Castiel stared at the pile of ash in shock, then looked around. Every angel still alive in the warehouse had stopped fighting and looked confused. Off in the far distance, Cas saw a shadow move towards a door and disappear through it. He briefly thought about following but didn't. For some reason, whatever that shadow was caused a shiver of fear to run through him.

o.O.o

  
Chuck had watched Raphael rant with increasing dismay. He had known that the archangels were defective ever since Lucifer's betrayal and Gabriel's defection. The remaining archangels, Raphael and Michael, had been so obedient that he'd hoped that it would suppress the insanity.  
No such luck.  
Instead it had increased, combined with fanaticism.  
He hated fanaticism.

He supposed that part of it had been his fault for leaving them on their own for millennia. Angels were not created to think for themselves, after all. He'd thought about finally returning, had even intended to, but he just couldn't do it. He liked being “Chuck Shurley” and dating Becky and just doing what he wanted without responsibility.  
So he'd destroyed Raphael instead.  
The only archangel left was Gabriel. Well, Michael was in the Cage, but that was fine. It kept him contained. He was probably insane too.  
Gabriel showed no signs of insanity. Cowardice, laziness, gluttony, and lust. But no insanity.  
Chuck could relate to a few of those. Honestly, Gabriel was the angel most like himself. Because of that, he had a soft spot for the archangel, and so he hadn't punished him for running to the pagans.  
Gabriel would probably take over Heaven, and that was fine. Chuck would continue to be Chuck.  
Well, until Amil grew into his powers. Then, he had plans... That was why he'd made sure the baby hadn't burned out by that premature activation of his power. He'd also put a subtle ward on those powers, so they could not be accessed until it was time.

  
o.O.o

“Gabriel—“ Cas began.  
Gabriel raised a hand. “Go. I'll clean up here.”  
Cas didn't need to be told anything more. He teleported to the bunker. The wards were up, so he sent a text to Dean.  
A few minutes later, the door opened. Cas entered without a greeting. Dean didn't seem to mind and just told him they were in Meg's room. Cas hurried through the halls and opened Meg's door without knocking.

Meg was curled up on the bed with Amil, giving the baby a bottle. Castiel paused in the doorway, relief and love overwhelming him.  
“Is he...” he asked when he could finally speak.  
Meg's face was blank, which was never a good sign. “Physically, he's fine.”  
Cas took several steps into the room and stopped at the edge of the bed. Amil spotted him and reached out. Meg set the bottle aside and tried to hand Amil to Cas. The baby had a firm grasp on her shirt, though, and refused to let go.  
“No. My Ma!” Amil protested.  
Meg sighed and cuddled Amil close. Amil rested his head against Meg's chest but continued to watch Cas. Hurt and worried, Cas sat down on the bed and reached out. Amil gripped two of Cas' fingers.  
“He's been like this since we got here. He won't let me go for more than a minute or two,” Meg explained.  
“He's always been attached to you.”  
“Yeah, but now it's literal. The cord was cut five months ago,” she grumbled, but Cas noticed her hold the baby tighter.  
“He saw Raphael attack you, and that obviously disturbed him.” Cas wondered why Amil wasn't burned through by that burst of power. He could sense Amil's grace had gone back to normal levels. He'd have to keep an eye on the baby.  
“Disturbed me too,” she replied wryly.  
“Me also,” he said. He wanted to lean forward and kiss Meg, but he knew that despite her earlier proposition, she was very sensitive right now and probably wouldn't appreciate the contact. So he raised his other hand and rested it lightly on her arm. She stared at it for a few moments but didn't shake him off.

“Raphael?” she asked.  
“Gone. Smote.”  
“Good.” She looked down at Amil. “He can never take you again. You're safe.”  
Amil just watched her.  
“This is going to take time, I think. We have to be patient.”  
“Easy for you to say. You're not being leached to.”  
Cas wished he was. After thinking Amil was dead, he would welcome it. He didn't understand what Meg was complaining about. Their child was alive.

Abruptly, Meg shoved Amil at Cas. The baby immediately stared crying and reaching for her. She gave Cas a long look and got up, leaving the room.  
“Ma! No! Ma!” Amil cried.  
Cas cuddled Amil against his chest and patted his back. “It's okay. I'm here. Da is here.”  
Amil pushed against Cas futilely with one tiny hand. “No.”  
“I'm sorry,” Cas said, rocking his son. “I'm sorry that I left you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you.”  
The guilt had been weighing on him. It had been drowned out by the pain of believing that Amil had been dead, but it had still been there. Now that the pain was gone, he could feel every bit of it.  
“Da. No,” Amil sobbed.  
“Please forgive me,” Cas said, holding his upset son tight.  
To his surprise, Amil's crying slowed. Cas loosened his hold and looked down at his son. Amil was watching him, the baby's eyes wary and full of distrust.  
“I love you more than anything,” Cas said.  
Amil reached up and patted Cas' cheek, and Cas felt immense relief.

Meg returned a few hours later. Amil was asleep in Cas' arms by then, having finished his interrupted bottle.  
“Why did you leave?” Cas asked.  
Meg crossed her arms. “Because you needed this.”  
Cas looked at Amil. The baby, woken by Meg's voice, briefly opened his eyes. Cas froze, but Amil closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Cas, clutching his coat. “Yes, I did. He was unhappy though.”  
“Yeah, well, we're parents. We'll make him unhappy about a billion times more before he's grown. He'll deal with it.” She paused. “Or be in therapy later. Either way, we'll have done our jobs.”  
“I don't like it.”  
“Well...I can see I'm going to be the disciplinarian in this family,” she said, sitting down on the bed. She stretched out and reached over, lightly brushing Amil's hair.

The next day Gabriel contacted Cas, and Gabriel was into the bunker.  
“It's over. Completely,” Gabriel said immediately, forgoing even a greeting. “Little Guy is safe.”  
“You're sure?” Meg demanded. “Absolutely sure?”  
“Yes. I've taken control of Heaven. There really isn't anybody strong enough to oppose me. The few angels who were left that had followed Raphael are imprisoned or destroyed. I've issued an order that Cas and his family are off limits. Any angel who violates that order will be smote on sight.”  
Cas nodded. “Thank you, Big Brother.”  
Gabriel walked over and smiled at Amil. The baby cowered against Cas' chest, eyeing Gabriel warily. Gabriel reached out and placed his hand on Amil's head. Amil fussed for a moment, but then Cas felt his son relax. A few moments later Amil looked at Gabriel and gave a happy, high pitched squeal. Gabriel took the baby.  
“There's my nephew,” Gabriel said, lightly bouncing Amil in his arms. Amil babbled cheerfully. “I knew you were still in there.”  
“What did you do?” Meg demanded. Cas suspected she was seconds from reaching for a weapon.  
“Healed his spiritual pain,” Gabriel replied. “He doesn't remember the kidnapping or anything about the battle.”  
“Thanks,” Meg said reluctantly. “But maybe ask before poking around my son's brain?”  
“Of course,” Gabriel said, but didn't apologize. He gave Amil a hug and handed him back. “I gotta go. Lots to do.”  
“Are you going to like being in charge? You can no longer...be you,” Cas asked.  
“Oh, I'll always be me, Little Bro,” Gabriel said with a grin. “I'm introducing the concept of delegating to Heaven. Samandriel and Ambriel have already been a big help.”  
“Hannah?” Meg asked, her voice tight with scorn.  
“Hannah didn't survive the battle.”  
“Can't say that I'm sorry.”  
Gabriel just shook his head and disappeared with the sound of flapping wings.

“It's over,” Cas said after a moment. He almost couldn't believe it.  
“What now?” Meg asked.  
“I suppose we'll—“  
“You'll start looking for a place to live,” Dean said from behind them.  
Cas turned and saw him leaning against the sofa. Sam was sitting in a chair.  
“I don't understand,” Cas said.  
“This is your eviction notice. Time to vacate the bunker. You need to find your own house.”  
“With Crowley and Raphael defeated, I no longer have to worry about Amil's safety. That means I can help you on more hunts,” Cas protested.  
“Nope. You're officially out of the hunting business, Cas.”  
“Dean—“  
Dean walked over and Amil reached for him.  
“Dee!” Amil greeted happily.  
Dean looked startled and took Amil. The baby settled happily in Dean's arms. “You're a father, Cas. This Little Guy is more important than any monsters. Our job is to hunt. Yours is to be there for Amil. And Meg too, I suppose.”  
“Yeah, hate you too,” Meg said, but there was no heat in Dean's or Meg's words. Something had happened to change their relationship. Cas had a feeling he would never know what it was, but he was grateful.  
“What if you need me to heal you?”  
“Tell you what? Broken bones or worse, we'll call you. Will that work?” Sam asked.  
“I suppose,” Cas agreed, reluctantly.  
It wasn't that he didn't want to be with Amil or Meg. It was that all he had known since leaving Heaven was the Winchesters. Even when he'd been living with Meg and Amil, he'd gone on hunts at least once a week. This was new to him.  
“Look, this isn't goodbye. We'll still visit,” San reassured him.  
“Yeah. We're Uncle Dean and...” Dean broke off and grinned. Sam rolled his eyes. “Uncle Sam.”  
“Dean...”  
Cas was still unsure, but then Dean handed Amil back, and Amil happily patted Cas' cheek.  
“My Da!”  
Cas hugged his son close and knew that he'd be able to make the adjustment.

With Sam's help once again, Cas found a new house for his family in the same area as the old one. He'd liked the location and felt that it was a good place to raise Amil. Meg said that she didn't really care, but he could see the approval in her eyes when she'd toured it for the first time.

The Winchesters were true to their word and did visit if they had a hunt in the area, usually two or three times a year. Cas had thought it would be awkward seeing them again after Dean had thrown them out, but it wasn't. Sam always brought educational gifts for Amil, and Dean brought sweets. The Winchesters were true uncles to Amil and still true friends to Cas. Plus, they admittedly enjoyed staying in a guest room instead of a dingy motel.

Life without the Winchesters constantly in it was strange for Cas, but he barely had time to truly think about it. Amil kept him occupied, and when Amil was asleep, Meg did. She introduced him to the concept of “binge watching” television programs, the vapid entertainment of gossip magazines, and, after about a year, sexual intimacy between them returned. He hadn't missed it but did enjoy that aspect of their relationship.

o.O.o

Meg sighed as Castiel placed a trail of kisses down the side of her neck and then tugged her pants off.  
The Winchesters were visiting and had taken Amil out for ice cream and a visit to the local fair. Meg and Cas were taking full advantage of a child-less house.  
Continuing down her body, he pulled off her underwear and reached over to the nightstand. He was surprised when Meg sat up and placed a hand on his arm.  
“No,” she said.  
He immediately moved away from her. Since their return to sexual activities he'd been extremely  conscientious of consent with her. He made sure to always check with her when proceeding and always got a clear, verbal yes or no. She never said anything, but he could tell that she appreciated it.  
“You wish to stop?”  
“No, not stop. I mean no to that,” she said, nodding to the condom he was holding.  
His brow wrinkled. “This prevents pregnancy. We don't know if Amil was a one time event.”  
“I know that.” She paused and then looked him in the eyes. “I want another baby.”  
Cas moved next to her and shook his head. He couldn't understand where this was coming from. “Meg, as I said last time, you—“  
“Last time was stupid and I was... Never mind. Listen to me. I know that with Amil I was bad even for being a demon. But I've been pregnant eleven times in my existence. Not a single one of those I chose.”  
“I am sorry—“ he began, the old guilt flaring up.  
“Shut up,” she said, firmly. “I'm not sorry that Amil exists. But...this time I'm choosing. And I don't want Amil to be the only one of his kind. I want another baby.”  
Cas was silent for so long that she reached over for her shirt. He stopped her with a hand on her arm.  
“All right. I will have another child with you. If you are absolutely sure. This is not something—“  
She silenced him with a kiss. “I am absolutely sure.”

Three months later their daughter was born. Cas made sure to be there for the entire labor and gently helped their daughter enter the world with his own hands. Meg named her  Eadlin, Lin for short.

o.O.o

Chuck quit typing and sent the document to Becky. He was finally done.  
He hadn't included his involvement in the story, of course. Instead he'd glossed over a few facts, and embellished others. He was a writer, and that's what writers did.  
Eadlin's arrival hadn't been anticipated, but then that's what Free Will was all about. Choices. Castiel had never been meant to make choices, but he was. Thankfully, his choices placed him outside the arena of battle.  
Which was perfect. He wasn't meant to take part in what was going to come next.  
Amil, and now Eadlin, however...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank each and every person who read this fic, especially those of you who stuck through to the end! I appreciate it, along with every kudos and every comment!


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